


To Isolate

by Poltea, sky_squido



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Gen, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Torture, It's real sad, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Mystery, Self-Harm, Soft Legend (Linked Universe), Suicidal Thoughts, as a treat, give me your tears, i am the angst gremlin, okay I lied, sky is not having a good time y'all, sky-centric, somehow fluff and crack got in here, that's it that's the fic, this is not a fun fic guys, who let them in THEY DO NOT BELONG HERE
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 111,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25119712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poltea/pseuds/Poltea, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_squido/pseuds/sky_squido
Summary: Sky is not having a good time right now.
Relationships: Four & Hyrule & Legend & Sky & Time & Twilight & Warriors & Wild & Wind (Linked Universe), Four & Sky (Linked Universe), Hyrule & Legend (Linked Universe), Legend & Sky (Linked Universe), Sky & Twilight (Linked Universe), the whole gang is here - Relationship
Comments: 247
Kudos: 280





	1. The Sun and the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Huge shoutout to Polteageist for making this fic possible. It would have been an incoherent mess sitting silently in my drafts for all eternity without her help. I'll try to finish it by the end of the month because everyone hates being left in suspense.
> 
> edit: that's a total lie. i am a cruel master. you never should have started reading this fic. there is no plan or update schedule. you are all at my mercy.
> 
> fools.
> 
> edit redux: be warned that this fic has some fibbonacci chapter wizardry going on. every chapter is like the length of the last two chapters combined. it's nuts.

"That battle was  _ nuts _ ," Legend moaned, flopping onto the ground dramatically.

"Legend, you used up way too much magic against those Lynels."

"You're one to talk, Hyrule. I think we've all earned a nice, long rest."

"Once we figure out where we've been dumped this time. Hylia didn't waste any time opening up that portal for us."

"I think this is my Hyrule. Yeah. We're in Hyrule Field," Twi smiled. "And we're not far from my favorite place. It's time to show you guys Ordon Village."

"YEAH! TWI'S HOMETOWN TIME!" Wind leapt into the air, somehow still with any modicum of energy.

"Sleep first, town later."

It didn't take long for the Links to get to bed. Only Hyrule stayed awake, insisting on taking his watch despite the magical exhaustion and everyone else was too tired to argue. Sky surveyed the assortment of heroes sprawled out on the ground and nodded in satisfaction. They had made it. He drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Sky was woken by a firm shaking on his shoulder. 

"Your watch," was all Warriors said, stiffly moving to his sleeping bag and silently laying down. That was unlike him. Was something wrong? Sky shook his head to wake himself up, making his way over to the small campfire that either Hyrule or Warriors had built during their watch. He let his eyes fall over the sleeping forms of his allies. He sighed. The half moon was the kind of half moon that promised to grow bigger, but as Sky looked at it, it just slid silently through the air. The crickets and bats skittering around the tall grass created a pleasant nighttime ambience, but it was still too quiet. Sky drew the Master Sword and ran his hands down the flat of her blade and hilt. Hylia, he missed Fi. He could still feel her in there, but he couldn't talk with her anymore, not since she was sealed away after his quest. She'd always keep him company on nights like this.

Sky looked up at the, well, sky with another sigh. Why didn't she come back? He stroked the sword again. Hylia needed them for another quest, so why wasn't she giving them her trusted guide? They could really use some guidance right about now. What were they doing aside from wandering the worlds, slaying monsters and walking through portals? Hylia had always given him guidance, through Fi, Zelda, Impa,  _ someone _ , but for some reason she was silent. Why? Had he done something wrong? He'd completed his quest, right? A sickening lurch gripped his stomach. It was Demise, wasn't it. All the other heroes had suffered because Sky started that reincarnation cycle. No wonder Hylia wasn't talking to him. She wanted him to see the repercussions of his actions and try to atone for his mistake by slaying monsters for her. He supposed he could accept that. After all, he deserved it.

The night passed, Sky never letting go of the Master Sword and getting lost in his own thoughts. He didn't even realize that the field had lightened and that he could see past the fire’s warm radius until the glare of the sun shone in his eyes, startling him. Was it morning already? He woke Wild with a gentle tap on his shoulder. 

"You, uh, wanna make some breakfast now? The sun's up, but you can keep resting if you want. You earned it."

Wild stretched and yawned dramatically. "I can do it. You're probably pretty hungry."

"Don't do it for my sake, I'm fine."

"Yeah, but we could use a good meal. We kind of skipped dinner in favor of sleep. We could use a feast right about now."

"If you insist."

And feast was the right word. The sheer quantity of food Wild produced had Sky speechless. He helped where he could, cutting vegetables and stirring pots, but he wished he could do more. The group rose once the sun was considerably higher in the sky, stirring in response to the sizzling of pans and hearty aromas of Wild's handiwork. 

"Woah, Wild, this is nuts! How'd you manage all this?"

"Well, Wind, the secret ingredient..." He paused dramatically, Wind leaning in excitedly "... is spite." Wild nodded authoritatively with his eyes closed. "Yes. Pure spite does wonders for a meal. The skewers I’ve made… Those Lynels were very rude and I am very displeased with them. Have some breakfast."

The group laughed at that, settling in for the meal with wide grins. It passed pleasantly, the whole group unwinding from their harsh battle and filled with excitement for the imminent trip to Twi's hometown.

Sky couldn't focus on what anyone was saying, though. All he could think when he saw Wind's laughter was a kid who had no business having a sword strapped to his back. All he saw when he looked at Four was a kid too clever for his age. Warriors stared sullenly into the fire, seemingly not hearing the conversation either. He didn't deserve to see so much bloodshed, so many wars.

They headed south, Twilight entertaining the group with stories of goat herding and the time Talo managed to convince the entire village there was a ghost haunting the windmill when really it was a clever setup he rigged with some monkeys and a lot of fishing string, among other things. Sky hung back from the group. Twilight deserved the chance to stay in his hometown. To keep herding goats and playing with kids. He didn't deserve to be marked and armed and armored. They were all just kids. Just kids who should be starting apprenticeships, not battle-hardened warriors. How dare he rob Twilight of his village? When Sky had returned to Skyloft, there had been moments of disconnect, a striking conflict between the person they remembered and the one they saw before them. It must have been so much worse for Twilight. Sky headed in and out of Skyloft often. It was a hub for him. For Twilight, Ordon was the sleepy village in the corner of the kingdom. He'd have to take days out of his quest just to get there.

Eventually, Warriors fell back, too, walking in step with Sky and breaking him from his thoughts.

"Hey, Sky. Can I borrow your sword for a second?"

What? Why did Warriors want the Master Sword?

"Um, sure," he replied, absently handing it over.

"Thanks. I just wanna swing 'er around a bit. I haven't used her in a while and you know how good it feels to wield such a perfectly balanced blade."

Warriors took the sword from Sky's outstretched hand and made quick, precise jabs and slashes.

Why did he want to use the Master Sword? She was a stunning blade, sure, but why train with a weapon you don't intend to use? Unless he did? Unless Warriors for some reason anticipated needing to use the blade? Did he think Sky was somehow unworthy? Did he think Sky would get hurt in battle and wanted to make sure he could wield Sky's weapon?

Of course there was the most obvious answer: that Warriors was far more qualified to use the blade than Sky was and that he'd start using it more and more until he asked to carry it instead of Sky, effectively taking it from him. And wasn't that justified? How many wars had Warriors fought and won? All Sky did was fail to save Sun and start a curse. Impa did all the heavy lifting, taking care of Sun and bringing back her memories as Hylia. Goddess, he missed Sun.

Sky wasn't sure how much time passed, but Warriors gave him back the sword with a murmured thanks. What could he do to be good enough? He'd caused them so much pain already. Was there any way he could make up for that? No, of course there wasn't. The least he could do was try to atone, but even then, it would never be enough. Not really.

They made camp and dinner passed in a blur of conversation snippets, nausea, and the glaring truth that every story someone told, every scar they bore, was his fault and they all knew it and thought he was useless and a burden and a  _ problem  _ and there was nothing he could do.

Four took first watch and Sky fell into an uneasy slumber.

* * *

Sky cracked his eyes open, a muggy sweat clinging to him and making him feel like he was coated in a thin layer of dried slime. Hylia, he wanted to jump into a freezing river and scrape it all off. There weren't any rivers until Ordon, though, so he studied his face into a mask of slight interest and mild curiosity—far easier to fake than smiling and easily applicable to any conversation he needed to pretend to listen to—and set about packing up his things so they could set off right after breakfast.

As they saw the tips of trees rising above the horizon, signaling their proximity to the forest where Twi's hometown was, they grew more and more excited. That is, until they spotted a silhouette heading towards them. Twilight assured them there was nothing to worry about, but Wild's free hand rested on the hilt of his sword— _ he shouldn't have to have that reaction to a stranger, he shouldn't. _

As it neared, they could make out a head of black hair, greenish tinted armor, and bright red pants. Twi's face morphed into one of pleased surprise.

"Ashei! What brings you to these parts?"

"Link! I didn't expect to see you back so soon. And who are these people?"

"They're some companions I picked up on my travels." That had quickly become the default response whenever someone questioned a Link's menagerie of companions.

She narrowed her already half-lidded eyes, a rare display of curiosity. "Any of them interested in joining the resistance?"

Twilight laughed. "What are you even resisting these days? You don't need this kind of manpower anymore."

Ashei's face turned somehow more serious. "There's something at Arbiter's Grounds."—Twilight's face displayed a brief flash of recognition and... what was  _ that _ ?—"Somethin' big. There haven't been a lot of enemies around that area, which is weird, yeah? But the Queen can feel it, y'know? I was just asking Rusl if he had any idea what it might be."

Twi hummed his acknowledgement. "Don't get involved with it. Especially not Rusl. He should be back with Uli and the kids. We'll take care of it."

Ashei looked over the Links again, her face shifting between approval and confusion.

"Well, I must trust you or something, because I believe you. Just take care, yeah?"

Twilight nodded. "Yeah. See you, Ashei. Give the Queen and the rest of the folks at Telma's my regards."

She stuck her hip out to one side, placing a hand on it. "Give 'em yourself. I'm sure Shad would love to interrogate all your friends here about all the places they've been. They look pretty well-traveled."

Twilight grimaced a bit. "I'd like to, but who knows where I'll end up. The adventuring business has a habit of running off with you like that."

She nodded, a bit concerned, maybe, but otherwise understanding.

The conversation wrapped up and she headed off, Twilight staring into the middle distance with a blank expression on his face. Time put his hand on Twi's shoulder. 

"Hey, pup, you good?"

Twilight let himself be pulled from his thoughts. "Yeah, I just— I mean, it doesn't make sense to head to Ordon anymore. We know where we've got to be headed, now, and it's in the other direction. Going to Ordon would just slow us down. It'll take us some time to get there anyway."

"Don't you think we deserve the break? We just fought that big battle."

"Yeah, but we won't be able to relax, not really. We have a goal to accomplish. We can't sit by idly until it's complete, can we? Besides, we'll hit Lake Hylia on the way over. We can stop there."

Twilight's words held truth, but that didn't mean anyone was happy about it. With that, they reversed course and started heading back up the way they had come from.

They did deviate course from their original track, however, wanting to head straight towards the Gerudo Desert where Twilight said Arbiter's Grounds was. It was on this new path that they heard the telltale sounds of monsters at camp.

They all knew the drill by then, though Warriors was sure to point out the advantage of surrounding the camp—pointless, as this was a process they repeated regularly—and they all dove into the camp. Sky scanned the small battlefield of scattered moblins and bokoblins, somehow the variety from Wind's world, but at that point, they weren't questioning it. He drew the Master Sword and held her in his right hand, spinning the handle between his fingers. He couldn't let Warriors take her away from him. No, he'd prove to Warriors that he was worthy of wielding it. He stuck near Warriors, clearing out most of the enemies in his vicinity. Or at least, he tried to. Warriors kept moving away from him. Did he not trust Sky to watch his back in battle? Just watch, Sky would make sure nothing laid a single finger on him. Sky could defend himself and Warriors. He was a capable fighter. He was worthy. He had to be. Without it, without the sword, he was nothing.

Sky efficiently dispatched a Bokoblin before glancing behind him and not seeing Warriors anywhere. Why couldn't he just stay where Sky could see him? He headed back towards Warriors before making him out, standing before a Moblin's sweeping blow. With the position his sword was in, there was no way he'd be able to block the attack in time. No, Sky had to help him.

Protective instinct in full gear, he slid in front of Warriors, raising his shield in an attempt to block the Moblin's spear. He wasn't fast enough, though, and it crashed into his shield arm, not the shield itself. He felt something pop and crunch under the impact, but at least Warriors hadn't taken the blow. 

Hey, when did Sky end up on the ground?

Oh, the battle was over. That was fast, though it was just a small skirmish. And oh, that felt nice. That must be Hyrule. But wait, why was Hyrule healing him? Hyrule should be saving his magic. What if someone else got hurt? What if there was another attack? This was just such a dumb fight, anyway. How had Sky let himself get hurt? Nobody else was hurt at all. Time, Twi, Wind, Four, everyone looked fine. What was that expression they were looking at Sky with? It wasn’t important. Warriors looked fine, at least. But he wasn't looking at Sky. He even seemed upset. Of course he was. He had it all under control and Sky dove in like an idiot and got himself hurt and now he was wasting Hyrule's magic. He shouldn't have doubted Warriors. Oh no this was only further proof that Sky couldn't handle the responsibility of the Master Sword. Not when he couldn't even handle a tiny battle. Warriors was right. Sky should have just stayed out of it. Maybe Warriors was even blaming himself for getting Sky hurt. Ugh, he ruined everything.  _ Again _ .

Oh, people were talking and it sounded like it was to him. He should probably listen. Okay, mild surprise and interest. Surprise and mild interest.

"I managed to repair your bones, but they're still fragile and your muscle needs to heal, too. You'll have to wear this sling for a few days. Don't try to use your arm at all."

A sling? Great. Just  _ great _ . How much more useless could Sky possibly get? If he wasn't already a massive thorn in everyone's sides, he certainly was now. And oh, someone else was talking. Who was it this time?

Warriors. It sounded like he was prattling on about tactics and battle strategy. Something about funneling enemies through choke points? That wasn't even relevant to the battle they just fought. Why did Warriors feel the need to tell them about this all of a sudden? He probably just needed to assert his intellectual dominance. As if he wasn't already better than Sky in every way. A Captain versus a lowly knight? A master tactician versus a stupid kid with a sword that won't even speak to him anymore? As if.

The day passed in a haze of  _ stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid _ and before he knew it, they'd set up camp and Wild was making dinner.

"Sky, you should eat more. Your body needs the energy to finish the healing process on its own." _ Sky, eat before you get any more useless than you already are. _

Sky tried to force more food down, Warriors extolling to the group stories of his various exploits and all the  _ genius _ tactics he put into play. Sky didn't have any stories of  _ tactical brilliance _ to share. He hit a thing with a magic sword and then it cursed all his friends. True brilliance. They all had great adventures, epic quests, exploration and discovery,  _ actual bravery _ . He spent his whole journey either having his hand held by this or that servant of Hylia or being terrified of the strange world he was in. They all talked about deserts and oceans and fiery volcanoes like they were nothing, but they were so alien to Sky and every step of his journey he was too shocked and confused and scared of  _ why is there liquid fire? Fi what do you mean it covers 65% percent of the region.  _ He was a naive little Sky Child. What did he know about any of their bravery or courage?

Hylia, he missed Fi.

Oh was dinner over? It sounded like it was. Wild was cleaning up and setting up for his watch. Oh that meant Sky should go to bed. That was probably the smart thing to do. He laid down and stared blankly at the grass until it faded to black.

* * *

Sky uneasily slid his eyes open, that grimy feeling suddenly resurging, and glanced around camp. Legend was sitting by the fire, watching the sun rise. Why couldn't Sky sleep anymore? It was starting to feel like he was always the last one to sleep and the first one up. Wasn't sleeping the only thing he was any good at? Could he not even do  _ that _ properly?

He stared at the grass again, replaying the battle over and over again in his head. Warriors had been fine. Warriors had it all taken care of. Sky was being stupid. Sky had wasted Hyrule's magic. And while Hyrule would never get mad at Sky for using up his magic, Legend was probably angry at Sky. Heck, Legend was the one that Sky had screwed over the most. He was just a kid and he'd seen so much. How old had he been when Sky's mistake first came knocking at his door? And here Sky was, testing what little goodwill he had by making them all baby him and waste their magic on him. Warriors had been fine. Sky could see that moment clearly in his head.

Warriors had been standing there, holding his sword at the ready.

Sky had spotted him from behind a Moblin and was moving closer to give him a hand.

The Moblin had wound up comically long, holding its spear there and Warriors' face had morphed to one of... of peace.

His sword.

It had been in the process of lowering, not raising, when Sky rushed in.

Hadn't it?

Was Sky just seeing things?

But no, he wouldn't have rushed in if Warriors' sword had stayed where it was.

It had been in a fine position.

It had lowered, hadn't it?

It had.

That was the only explanation. It was what Sky saw.

So then why?

What was going on with Warriors?

A voice in the back of Sky's mind hissed that it was an elaborate prank, that Warriors just wanted to watch him suffer, but the protective and self-sacrificing instinct was stronger. Something was up with Warriors and Sky wasn't going to mess this up more than he already had.

Sky kept an eye on Warriors over breakfast. He seemed... normal? He wasn't really taking part in the usual banter but whenever he had the chance, he spilt more battle tactics. Now it was something about storming forts? While this wasn't shockingly out of character for Warriors, he always was a bit of a glory hog, he also couldn't resist a good-natured jab at Legend. Something about morale or camaraderie or something.

They took to the road again, Sky determined to figure out what was up with Warriors. But now, Warriors seemed to be keeping his distance from Sky. He hung back from the group, but any time Sky tried to get near him, he'd suddenly remember that he needed to tell Time something and would run back ahead. No matter how hard Sky tried, he couldn't seem to get Warriors alone. Sky was supposed to be the emotionally intelligent one, right? What was it that Wind had said it was? Mom-ish-ness? Well, clearly he didn't have any of  _ that _ because he wasn't even able to talk to Warriors. Yet  _ another _ thing he was incompetent at.

They started setting up camp, Sky continuing to be useless with his arm still wrapped up in a sling. Dinner was a fight to keep his eyes and ears on Warriors while everything kept being blurred in a haze of  _ stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid _ and  _ useless useless useless useless useless useless _ .

"Sky, are you sure you can take watch right now? You seem a little—"

"Yes." Time blinked at him. "Yes, I can. I will."

"Are you sure? You're still injured and you've been acting—"

"I've got it. I'm fine."

"I know you're fine, but would you like Wind to take watch with you? We just want to make sure that if we're attacked, we have the optimal chance of defending ourselves."

Sky didn't respond to that.

"Warriors, could you please wake up Wind for watch when you wake Sky up, too?"

Sky could see Wind's face. There was a note of hopeful curiosity in his expression. As if he didn't know what was wrong but was determined to help. As if Sky was someone he could help  _ fix _ .

Sky stared at the Master Sword that laid by his bedroll until his conscious thought tapered into silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sun and Moon. A little allusion to Warriors' soundtrack, mayhaps?


	2. The Brewing Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is angst afoot in Link-land

"Hey, hey Sky. You've got watch now."

"You know that's not gonna work. He sleeps like a brick."

"Nah, kid. Look, he's getting up."

"Hey, I’m not a kid!” He was quickly shushed by the other voice, who was definitely Warriors. “Hey Sky, you ready for our watch?"

Sky blinked in confusion. Warriors was talking to him? He looked at the Captain, bewilderment clear on his face. 

"Morning, sleepyhead. It's your turn for watch."

Why was Warriors being... back to normal? Had Sky been imagining it? Was Warriors even back to normal? He shuffled over to the fire where he sat with Wind.

The two sat by the fire in relative silence before Wind spoke up. 

"So, how's the arm?" _How does your failure feel?_

"It's fine, I guess."

"That's good! We were pretty worried about you." _You messed up and made us worry. We're still worried about you. You are the problem._

"Yeah. I'm ok now."

"Aight. Time was totally overreacting by making me have watch with you, but it's gonna be fun anyway!" _I don't want to be here. I shouldn't have to be here. But I am because we have to take care of you._

"Let's be quieter, though. We need to be able to keep watch and we can't do that if we're talking," Sky murmured, a plea to Wind to shut up and stop reminding Sky of everything he's done wrong. 

"Oh, sorry." _Why are you so sensitive? I just wanted to talk._

A sound echoed through the forest like that of snapping twigs. 

"I'll go check it out." _Stay here; you're worthless._

And with that, Wind stalked into the forest, sword drawn. Sky sat. The crackling fire continued to crackle. The bats continued their chatter. This was stupid. Sky was _stupid_ . Sending a fourteen-year-old into the forest alone at night? He should be bundled up in his bedroll, sleeping, but instead he's out there, doing Sky's job because Sky is too _pathetic_ to do it himself.

 _Wind can handle himself. He's a good fighter._ Which part of Sky was that? It wasn't the cruel part that whispered sickening words of despair or the protective, selfless part that was the only one powerful enough to shut up the cruel one. Maybe it was just... Sky. Either way, the statement was not at all comforting. Sky simultaneously thought, _he is a good fighter. Far better than any kid his age should need to be_ and _he's not good enough. He's going to get hurt and it's going to be your fault._

Sky was just about ready to get up and go looking for Wind when he reemerged from the forest, staring resolutely at the ground.

"What was it?"

"Nothing, just some animals."

"Oh, ok."

This wasn't right. Wind seemed... drained. Like all the, well, wind had been taken out of his sails. Like he sounded when Sky told him to be quiet earlier. He shouldn't have told Wind to shut up. Wind just wanted to be kind and cheer him up. And Sky had shut him down. _Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid._

"Hey, Wind, you good?"

He paused for a moment before replying. "Yeah. But let's not talk. We have to be quiet, like you said."

Wind didn't speak after that, staring into the fire and looking like he was mulling something over, playing with words in his head, thinking, analyzing. They were Sky's words and he knew it. The very words he had thrown back in Sky's face. Sky had upset him by telling him to shut up and now he wasn't going to say anything because Sky had told him to be quiet. Sky ruined their shared watch like he ruined everything else.

The sun steadily crept up, causing a minute brightness to slink into the forest and draw mist from the earth, curling into their camp and coating the trees in the fine layer of silvery dew.

"Wind—" his voice cracked from the night of silence "—Wanna go wake up Wild?" The two of them were always getting into trouble together and could read the mischievous looks in each others' eyes in a way Sky could only wish for.

"Hmm? Oh, um, sure."

Wind shook Wild's shoulder without ceremony and Wild started up his regular routine of making breakfast for the group.

Sky didn't move from his seat by the fire, though, carefully watching Warriors as the Captain woke up and went about his morning routine, which for some reason included shining his boots. Eventually, he made his way over to Sky's seat by the fire and sat _right next to him_. What did Warriors want?

He bumped Sky companionably with his shoulder. "Hi, Sky. How was watch?"

W—what?

"It was fine, I guess. How have you been holding up?"

"I'm fine, thanks to you! You really saved my hide in that battle." He clapped Sky on the shoulder. "I'm lucky to have such a sharp swordsman as a comrade."

_What?_

Had Sky been imagining everything? Him asking for the Master Sword, was that just an honest respect for the blade Sky wielded? Were all his stories and battle tactics just his attempts to participate in conversation and try to be helpful? In that battle, did Wars just make a miscalculation? Did Sky imagine the accepting look on his face? _What was going on?_

Sky spent the rest of the day carefully watching Warriors' behavior. He chatted, joked, smiled, but still had that usual trademark Warriors Focus and Discipline. He seemed... completely normal.

He didn't act weirdly around Sky at all, treating him like any other member of the group, maybe even better than usual after the recent battle. Sky must have just been imagining everything. Warriors was just being Warriors. Sky was supposed to be the one looking out for everyone but he couldn't even tell when someone was _perfectly fine_ versus _very much not perfectly fine_ . Could Sky do _literally anything right_?

When they arrived at camp, Sky was met with _very_ welcome news.

“Alright, Sky. Pull off that sling and lemme take a look. If it looks good, you’ll be home free.”

 _Finally,_ Sky could be at least a _little_ useful again.

It was a small comfort.

That night at dinner, the group amicably chatted and bantered as per the usual, but when there was a slight lull in the conversation, Wind piped up from where he sat on his hands, bouncing his leg at supersonic speeds.

"Hey, you know what we should do? We should talk about our journeys! Did I ever tell you the story of the time I broke this curse on Tetra? It was awesome!"

The group smiled, and the energy shifted towards listening to Wind. He always told the best stories. It must be a sailor's gift. Wind's story was as impressive as ever, to the point where his audience felt like they were with him out on the open ocean with the sweet, salty sea breeze as their only guide apart from the sketchy old captain by Wind's side. After he wrapped up, having sprung to his feet and placing his hands on his hips with a flourish, he sat back down again, sitting on his hands and vibrating his leg like it was a bomb about to explode.

"I bet none of y'all can beat my curse-breaking record." Wind smiled devilishly.

"What, of one curse? That is the most pathetic track record I've ever heard!" Legend laughed.

"Hey it's not just the one! I also un-cursed the Temple of the Ocean King and this other time there was this demon train—"

"Alright, kid, that's enough. The adults are talking. It's time to hear about some _real_ curse-breaking."

"Legend, how old are you again?"

"Old enough."

"But we can all agree," Twilight butted in, making a calming motions with his open hands, "that if you don't need to kill at least sixty Poes to break the darned thing, it doesn't even count as a curse." 

"Hey, what about using the Triforce to break a curse! That's a totally valid curse-breaking strategy for legitimate curses!" Legend complained, rising to the challenge.

"No, that's like using the Master Sword to break a curse. It's cheating."

" _How_ is it cheating?! Do you know what I had to do to get the darned thing?"

"Hush, kid, that's enough. The adults are talking."

" _WhAT did you just call me!?_ "

The camp burst into laughter as Sky only wanted to shrink farther and farther into the ground and disappear.

He'd never broken a curse before, only started one. One that would haunt all of his closest friends for the rest of time itself. No matter what they fought, bled, cried, and _died_ for, the curse followed them. The most unbreakable curse. One of hatred and malice so strong that not even the Triforce had been able to stop it for long. In fact, Ganon seemed to end up with the Triforce more often than not. Yet another group bonding moment that Sky couldn't participate in. Yet another mistake he made that couldn't be fixed. Why did Hylia bring him here with these other heroes? Sky could never atone for his actions. Bringing him here _must_ be some form of punishment. Or maybe a lesson. To teach him the repercussions of his foolish actions.

"Hey, Sky?"

Oh, dinner was over. 

"I, um... I miss her. The Master Sword. She's um... in my Hyrule, she's still stabbed into Ganondorf's head at the bottom of the ocean and... it's been a while since I held her. I think I'd like that."

Oh. _Oh._ It was bad enough missing Fi, but at least Sky still had the sword itself. He couldn't imagine being separated from the blade he loved so much. Wind must have really missed it to show vulnerability like that. It made sense. He always wanted to be so strong. He must have tried to tell those stories over dinner to make himself seem brave and heroic to cover for this moment of weakness. 

"I totally understand, Wind. Ask for her anytime."

"Thank you."

Wind headed off into the woods, spinning the Master Sword experimentally through his hands and admiring the way it glittered in the gibbous moonlight.

Sky sighed, watching Warriors settling in for bed. He really hoped Warriors was alright. He had been acting normally, but Warriors was a Captain in the military. He was always the one to try and boost morale and one of the last to crack under pressure. Surely, he'd be able to hide any pain he was suffering with ease. People don't just _magically get better_ and Warriors had every motivation to try and hide what was wrong. Sky wasn't about to let Warriors do something rash. Sky had saved him from what very well could have been a nasty wound—whether that was intentional or not—so Sky still had some modicum of use. He just needed to be sharp and pick up on any little sign that something was wrong.

Wind returned a little while later, handing back the Master Sword.

"Thanks a lot, Sky. She was definitely a lot smaller in my Hyrule. I'm not used to how massive she is!" He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, but a slight flash of white could be spotted wrapped around Wind's hand. Did he have that earlier? Sky didn't remember.

"Is that why your hand's been bandaged?"

Wind froze at that, his shoulders rising minutely.

"Yeah. She's so big that I accidentally nicked myself while putting her away."

Sky narrowed his eyes. "You should get Hyrule to look at that. It might get infected. I'd hate to have anything bad happen to you."

"Yeah, sure, I'll get Hyrule to check it out later. Thanks again for the sword."

"Now means now, Wind."

"Okay _Mom_ ," he laughed, heading to his bedroll.

Sky ran his hands along the blade's hilt. He'd like to say that cuts from the Master Sword didn't get infected because it was a holy weapon, but he couldn't say. He'd never actually cut himself on it before. Besides, Fi would burn his hands if he ever tried to point it against another Link. He supposed that included himself, too.

Sky settled into his bedroll for the night, one hand on the Master Sword's hilt. Hylia, he missed Fi. She'd be able to tell him all about the effects of her blade. Sky drifted off to a restless sleep, wondering where Hylia was and why she hadn't explained her motive for bringing them together yet.

* * *

Sky woke up to Wind draped dramatically over the snoring Wolfie. It had been a little while since they'd seen him. Sky was glad he was alright. He looked back over to Warriors, who looked like he'd been up for some time and was neatly folding his bedroll. He glanced around the camp a little worriedly. Was Warriors going to try something? What was with the sketchy glances?

Wind finally started stirring, Wolfie watching him with an expression of—okay Sky was going to have to throw in the towel on this one. He couldn't read Wolfie's facial expressions to save his life. Whatever it was, it was enough to get Wind to sit up and duck his head like, well, a scolded child. 

"Wolfie, can you go get Twilight and then patrol the area?" Time asked, and Wolfie nodded his head and rushed off into the woods, sniffing the ground. 

Oh, Twilight still hadn't returned from his watch. That was probably why Warriors was so nervous.

A few minutes later, Twilight returned, scanning the camp until his eyes fell on the form of Wind.

"Where were you last night?"

"Nowhere."

"Really? Is that why I had to send Wolfie after you when I woke up for watch and you weren't there?"

All eyes fell on Wind.

"What! I heard some sketchy noises and I was checking them out! That's what watch is _for_."

"Yes, but you should not be fighting Poes by yourself. Only Wolfie can properly see and kill them."

"How was I supposed to know? You didn't _say that_ ! I'm trying to keep the monsters away from camp! That's the watch's _job_!"

"No, Wind. The watch's job is to _watch_ for danger and wake up the group in the event of an enemy, not to run blindly into fights you can't win."

"But Poes are easy in my Hyrule! I didn't want to wake you all up over one measly monster!"

Twi sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

"I know that you feel like we're babying you, but you really could have gotten hurt. I'm just glad Wolfie got to you in time. Please don't be too reckless."

"I can take care of myself."

"We know you can. But we're also here to take care of each other. There's nothing wrong with letting the people who love you help you." Who said that? Was that Sky? Oh Hylia that _was_ Sky. He needed to get his protective instincts under control because the _last_ thing Wind needed was to get babied, or to feel like he was. Sky should really just back off and let Wind take care of himself.

"I see storm clouds brewing," Wild remarked, looking up from where he was preparing breakfast, "And I can smell the rain coming. We should take shelter."

Wind triumphantly leapt to his feet. "Fear not, dear compatriots! The valiant Wind shall ameliorate this dilemma with his immense power!"

Legend snickered at that, but he was quickly shut up when Hyrule smacked him lightly in the back of the head. He was further shut up when Wind produced his Wind Waker, deftly moving it up, left, and right with all the finesse of a practiced conductor, despite the bandages on his hand. Speaking of those, Sky had meant to make sure Wind got to Hyrule to get that checked out. Before he could, though, the wind direction abruptly shifted, blowing the storm clouds away from them. Wind puffed out his chest in pride.

"Woah, Wind. That's _awesome_. I could totally use something like that in Skyloft, what with all the flying and all."

"Sorry, sir," he said in a rather piratey accent, "it's not fer sale."

Wild, satisfied by this turn of events, returned to his cooking. The meal passed in relative normalcy, Wild glancing up at the clouds every so often and evidently pleased by what he saw. Before long, the nine heroes were back on the road again. Oh right, Sky meant to make sure Hyrule checked out Wind's hand. Even though there was a good chance it wasn't infected, it was important to make sure. Especially after Fi had burned his hand that one time he had a run-in with a rather fluffy Legend. It wasn't too bad, but it had still hurt like heck, even though it was an accident. Hyrule's magic had done a great job soothing it, though, so Hyrule could help Wind either way. That was of course assuming that Wind had gotten burned at all, which would mean he'd tried to attack a Link, which couldn't have happened because he was in the forest with nobody but him...self.

No, that was ridiculous.

Wind was being skittish about his bandaged hand and hiding it, but that could easily have been because he was ashamed he'd accidentally nicked himself. Wind was always trying to be so strong, of course he'd try to hide an injury like that.

No, that didn't make any sense at all.

Sky's mind flashed to Warriors' peaceful expression and the split-second decision that saved the Captain’s life. Even though Warriors seemed fine now, there was no way to know what was going on inside his head. Sky couldn't let Wind face that same fate. No.

But that wasn't even an issue.

Because Wind would never.

He wouldn't.

Sky needed to talk to Wind. Pointless hypothesizing would get him nowhere.

Wind was sticking close with the group, though, and chatting excitedly with them. There wasn't an opening through which Sky could talk to him. Stopping occasionally to redirect the brewing storm clouds that continued to linger no matter how many times Wind dispelled them, they eventually reached a good spot to make camp for the night. Dinner passed, Wind being his usual energetic self, if even more boisterous and enthusiastic than usual, and Warriors watching in fondness, stepping in occasionally for a clever jab. Sky would have to try and talk to him after dinner.

But Sky had decided he wasn't going to mother Wind. That was the last thing Wind needed. But that bandaged hand. That _still bandaged hand_ was eating at him. He'd always had an imagination and was prone to getting lost in daydreams, but lately his imagination hadn't been dreaming up particularly nice scenarios.

"Hey, Wind."

"Hey, Sky, how may I be of service on this fine day?"

Sky tried to laugh. He wasn't sure how it came out. "Good evening to you, too. If you really want to be of service, you could tell me how you're doing. I just wanted to check in."

At that, Wind's jaunty facade seemed to ripple like an illusion that was seconds from fading away. "I'm doing just fine! It was a lot of fun being able to use the Wind Waker so much. I really do love it."

"Yeah. It's an amazing item. Do you know how it works?" Sky was trying to loosen Wind up a little, yes, but he was also legitimately curious.

"I... don't exactly know. It's pretty sick, though, isn't it."

"Yeah, it really is."

Wind smiled down at where he spun it between his fingers, the smooth silver glittering in the light of the gibbous moon. Was the expression on his face bittersweet? He was probably remembering good times, like Sky often did when he held the Master Sword.

"The Master Sword reminds me of a friend of mine. It looks like the Wind Waker reminds you of someone too, huh."

Wind started for a moment in surprise.

"It's ok. I only recognize that face because I make it, too. It's hard, having to part with those people."

"Yeah. Parting with the people you love is always difficult, isn't it."

Wind said that with far too much emotion to make Sky at all comfortable.

"Who was it for you?"

"My sister. She was taken by one of Ganon's minions. That's what started me on my quest in the first place. I had to leave my grandmother and my whole village behind."

"I know what you mean," Sky tried to comfort him, "my adventure started when Sun was taken. I had to leave my village behind to go after her, too."

Wind nodded.

"But you got to see your grandmother and sister again, right? It all turned out okay in the end."

"Maybe." Oh no, Wind was closing up again. Was Sky mothering him too much? He was trying to keep the conversation casual. What did he do wrong this time! It was going so well! _Why was Sky so useless?_

He'd try again tomorrow. He figured he had pestered Wind enough for one day. Maybe he just needed some sleep and then he'd be able to think clearly and prevent this worry that slid across his vision like dark fog. Maybe.

The dark fog thickened until it beckoned Sky into sleep.

* * *

Sky woke up to being kicked in the ribs.

"Come _on_ , Sky boy! Naptime's over! We could really use your help right about now!"

What?

Suddenly, the din of battle registered, along with the beating of leathery wings, the thundering of hooves, and the screeching of bokoblins. Sky stood up, frantic, at the battle that was quickly springing up around their camp. Most of the other Links seemed also to be disoriented, standing up suddenly and grabbing their weapons. Legend next to Sky, blasting nearby enemies with his fire rod.

"Took you long enough! There was an ambush. I heard them coming, but they're fast. I barely had time to wake up camp before they were on us." _You slept in. You were late. Again. We've had to fight this battle and protect you. Hurry up and do something useful for once._

"Twi, why in Hylia's name did your lizalfos decide to go ahead and grow _wings_?" Wild asked, firing at one of the aeralfos and causing it to erupt into sparks, convulsing and dropping to the ground like stone.

"Heck if I know! It's not like I asked them to!"

Twilight shot his clawshot at one of them, grabbing its rather conveniently patterned shield and dragging it down within slashing range. At the moment, there were a few of what Twilight called Aeralfos hovering overhead and a menagerie of Bokoblins littered around their camp. There was a charging line of hideous green Bokoblin-like monsters mounted on strange creatures that Twilight had called Bulbins and Bulbos. They let loose a slew of fire arrows, but a well-timed use of the tornado rod from Legend managed to disperse them. Wind, however, stood directly in the path of the charging horde of Bulbins. What was he _doing_?

He pulled out his bow and rapidly fired a slew of ice arrows. Massive daggers and spears of ice erupted around their impact points, trapping the feet of the Bulbos in frigid prisons and impaling some of their riders, halting them in their tracks. The stampede kept coming, though, and Wind was just standing there, firing at them.

He couldn’t rely on ranged attacks forever, and though he had thinned out a good portion of their number, the stampede was still coming, and _fast_.

Legend, momentarily distracted by an uncomfortably friendly Bokoblin, wasn't able to disperse the next round of fire arrows. Wind responded by pulling out a giant... _leaf_ ? and using it like Sky used his gust bellows in an attempt to blow the arrows away. But that was _stupid_ ! They were _arrows_ ! And Wind had a _leaf_!

He rushed forward to help him, protective instinct screaming, but was blocked by the sudden descent of an Aeralfos. _This really wasn't the time for this!_

As he locked blades with the airborne reptile, Time spotted Wind and rushed over, pulling the boy close to his chest and turning his back to the Bulbins. He wasn't wearing his armor like he usually was, though, because they'd just woken up. His shield was strapped to his back, sure, but it didn't cover most of him. A few arrows bounced off his shield, but one stray bolt managed to embed itself in the meat of his thigh, still flaming, but Time didn't budge from his protective position over Wind.

Legend, now beset by numerous Bokoblins, called out for Hyrule.

"On it!" The brunet replied, rushing towards the pair.

What Legend had meant was for Hyrule to heal Time's leg. What Legend had not meant was for Hyrule to break out into a wide smile and hold his sword in both hands. Flames burst forth, stretching forward in arcing tongues of crimson. He swiped his blade across the field and a wall of fire erupted in front of the Bulbins that were now mere yards away. 

Needless to say, they weren't much of a threat after that.

The rest of the battle wrapped up rather neatly, Legend refusing to be outdone by Hyrule's display of firepower.

Hyrule sat at Time's side and wordlessly began examining the wound.

"Wild, Magnesis, please."

Wild looked up from where he had been picking up an Aeralfos shield and spun it between his hands for a moment before nodding in approval and putting it into his Sheikah Slate. If this inter-dimensional battle continued much longer, Wild would have an arsenal unlike any other. He jogged over to Hyrule and carefully removed the arrowhead from Time's leg. Hyrule immediately set to work, Time's face barely shifting as the burns and blood began to smear back into smooth skin.

"Wind, what the hell was that?!"

Twilight.

"What was what?"

"That ridiculous stunt you pulled!"

"What? I got like half of 'em! If Time hadn't jumped in my way it wouldn't have been an issue!"

"You had a _leaf_!"

"It's a magic leaf!"

Sky tried to diffuse the argument. "You do need to be more careful, Wind. That was close."

" _Stop mothering me!_ I can handle myself! Why can't you let me be heroic? I want to help and fight and I _did_ and I _was_ but you stopped me! And _you_ , Sky! You won't leave me alone! Why can't I be treated like equals with you guys! It's not fair!"

"Wind! You can't do anything heroic if you're _dead_!"

Wind froze up at that, stiffening. His glare hardened to ice. 

He bit out, "let's pack up camp. We should get moving."

Nobody moved.

"What? It works when Time says it. It works when Warriors and Twi and Wild say it. Heck, it even works when _Legend, Hyrule, Four, and Sky_ say it! But no, nobody listens to me! Not even now!"

Eventually, they did, unwilling to hang around a camp that stunk of smoldering monster corpses. They continued on their journey, heading ever farther north. Above the hills and trees, rising steadily before them, were the stone spires of what the other Links would call a castle. It was tall and grand and the spires were pointed and stalwart and if Sky had a concept of royalty, he would probably think of them as regal. He did not, though he still knew that there was something important about this silhouette that hung in the distance.

Sky didn't try to talk to Wind after his outburst. He was just going to upset the kid further. No, Sky would address this tomorrow when tensions were lower and everyone had more sleep. Eventually, they settled in for the night at a new campsite.

It was during dinner that Wind shocked everyone. He visibly pulled himself together and sat up a little straighter. 

"I'm sorry for what happened in that battle."

Everyone halted mid-sentence, staring at Wind in disbelief.

"I just wish I could do more for you guys. To really help you all and hold my own in battle. I guess it's just because I love you all so much, I—" He paused for a moment, a sob rising in his throat.

"Say no more," that was Warriors, moving to sit next to Wind and wrapping his scarf around the kid's shoulders. "We love you to death, kiddo, and you're stuck with us, whether you like it or not."

Wind leaned into Warriors side, wrapping the scarf around himself tighter. 

"You all mean so much to me, even if I don't act like it sometimes. I— you all mean the world to me. I wouldn't give you up for anything."

"We feel the same way, Wind."

"No," He was earnest, insistent. "You're all amazing. Really truly amazing. You need to remember that."

"We will. Just don't forget to include yourself in that, too. You're one awesome kid, you know that?"

"For the last time, I'm not a kid."

"Alright, hero."

They settled into sleep that night. Maybe everything would be alright, after all. Wind seemed pretty happy and legitimately repentant for his actions. Maybe this storm had passed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh me oh my how curious indeed


	3. You Failed to Protect Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just some Sky angst, guys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be angstier (and 10k words shorter) than it ended up being. oopsie. SORRY FOR THE WAIT OH MY GARDEN THAT TOOK FOREVER!!!!

Sky's eyes slid open to Warriors' gentle shaking on his shoulder.

"Morning, sleepyhead. It's your shift now."

"Hey, Wars," he muttered out, rubbing his eyes. Whoever's idea it was to set up the rotation so that Sky's watch was always last needed to.... Sky couldn't think of a good insult or threat with his sleep-addled mind, so he left that blank unfilled. At least they were courteous enough to put Sky after Warriors, who was probably the least of a total _gremlin_ out of all of them. Yes, Sky could trust Warriors to wake him up with minimal fuss and shenanigans.

Aside from whatever the heck was up with his emotional state, but it was too early to start dealing with that sort of dread and confusion.

As he reached for the Master Sword, he spotted, resting beside her hilt, a small silvery baton that shimmered like mother of pearl in the light of the full moon. Did Wind accidentally leave it with his stuff?

Where—where _was_ Wind?

What? _What?_

" _You're all amazing. Really truly amazing. You need to remember that._ "

" _For the last time..._ "

"You can't do anything heroic if you're dead!"

Wind's face. The shock, the fear, the pain.

No.

He _wouldn't!_

But that was starting to sound more and more like a mantra, a wish, a plea, a sweet lie than a fact supported by any sort of actual evidence.

Sky ran.

He ran and he ran and he couldn't _breathe_ , dammit, his lungs hiccuping and his diaphragm spasming and every breath he sucked in wasn't enough, his lungs weren't _big_ enough. He sucked in another breath that ripped at the dryness in his throat, tearing a cough from his chest. He fell to the ground with a heave and a sob and a— _where was Wind where was Wind he didn't he wouldn't he_ can't _please, dear Hylia, don't let him have—_

He dragged himself to his feet, and staggered on, lightheaded, his breaths short and spasming, taking five inhales to every exhale.

He felt like he was about to die of asphyxiation, but he had better find Wind before then and the kid better be alive because _Hylia_ , he didn't know what he'd _do_.

He passed a clump of bramble, and in his peripheral vision, he could barely spot a flash of color in the pale moonlight. Bright color.

He turned, anxiously, hopefully, _terrified_ , to see Wind.

Standing there.

Really confused.

Was there blood? No, no blood. All of his limbs were attached, heck, he didn't even have his sword. Nothing looked broken, his eyes looked neither red nor dull. He was... completely and utterly fine.

Except for the fear and confusion very clear on his face.

"Sky, what the _f*ck_ , are you okay? You look like you're about to f*cking pass out. What happened? Is everyone ok?"

Sky couldn't talk. He knew, breathing the way he was, that it was going to take a few minutes at best before he could say anything.

He knelt on the ground, head bowed before remembering the gentle words of Instructor Owlan that _your chest can hold more air if you straighten your back_ . He tried to sit up, but—ow okay no bad idea, bowing his head couldn't be _that_ bad.

Wind, to his credit, approached Sky carefully but with purpose, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, uh. It's gonna be ok. Just breathe—actually wait that's sh*t advice and we both know it, um—"

Sky couldn't help but laugh at that, and he sucked in a breath before remembering he _couldn't_ and found himself taking dozens of tiny huffing butterfly breaths to try and get air in past his spasming chest.

"f*ck, oh sh*t, I'm so f*cking sorry, Sky. Okay, no laughter, um. Um. I'm gonna go grab Twi or someone who like knows how to handle this stuff because I, uh, I—"

Sky couldn't speak, but that didn't mean he couldn't bully his exhausted muscles into grabbing Wind's wrist. _Don't leave, please, I don't want to let you out of my sight._

"Oh, um, okay. I'll stay here, then. I'm gonna put my hand back on your shoulder, if that's okay. Um, when I was in the Earth Temple, with Medli, um, a friend of mine, it was pretty freaky stuff. The first time I fought a re-dead, well, I was having some trouble breathing, too. She taught me this trick, though.

"Picture a box, kay? And there's a feather in the box. And when you breathe in, the feather floats up, right? Oh jeez, Medli was a lot better at explaining this. Is it a bird thing? Because, I mean, birds have feathers and she's a bird—well a Rito, but I—okay right, back to the thing. So when you inhale, it floats up, and when you exhale, it drifts down. Right, so you try and keep it in the box. I like it better than those 'hold for a count of however many seconds' ones cuz like... bold of you to think I can count when I'm—oh right, no being funny. Um, so anyway—"

Sky tuned out most of what Wind said after he finished his rambling about the feather, picturing one of Zelda's Loftwing's dusky violet plumes.

His shaky inhales caused the feather to jerk and bounce upwards, as if attached to a string that was being tugged in short bounces, but it made it up. then he got to the top of the box and let it fall, trying as hard as he could not to suck in another breath. He did, subconsciously, but the feather's downward trajectory continued. Then, when it reached the bottom, he tried to float it back up, as delicately as possible. Like Zelda on her Loftwing, rising deftly into the air. Then falling, like drifting down on his sailcloth to worlds unknown. Up, like being lifted to Skyloft in a rush of air. Down, like sinking into the cool waters of Lake Floria. In, like the gentle strumming of his harp. Out, like the soft echoes of Zelda's singing. In, out. In, out. It was okay. He was okay. Wind was okay. Everything was ok.

"—and then it turned out that the reason he was wearing two top hats was one to cover each of the horns on either side of his creepy little demon head and—should I really be talking? I feel like you should be focusing on like breathing and not dying but also I doubt you're even listening to me anymore so I could really be saying whatever the hell I want to be saying and you wouldn't notice or care but—yeah okay I should really stop talking now, I'll—"

"Thank you, Wind."

It came out rough, and he had to suck in a butterfly breath on the "you," but at least he wasn't asphyxiating on the ground anymore.

"Oh, you're okay. That's a relief."

" _I'm_ okay? _That's_ a relief? Kid, I thought you were _dead_!" Oh wow okay that was a lot of chest spasming okay heck, remember the feather. Remember the feather. In, out.

"Wait, what? _Why?_ "

"I—" Why _did_ Sky think that? Wind was being stupid in battle, but wasn't he _always_ being stupid in battle? At least a little. He was probably just sick of being babied. Then it all came to a head, but he was trying to be mature, to prove his sincerity. Besides, people called him kid all the time and it wasn't like he hadn't said that before. What _was_ Sky's evidence? His reasoning? He saw the Wind Waker with his stuff? Did Wind even put it there on purpose? Sky _had_ taken an interest in it. Maybe he was doing it as a surprise present to make up for kind of almost dying and then being a jerk about it. And to be fair, Wind had a _point_ . The group was rather egalitarian, with Time being the informal leader, but nobody ever treated Wind with the same respect as everyone else, at least not in decision making calls like that. Wind had every reason to want to _prove_ himself, not _off_ himself. That's why he was being so reckless and trying so hard to be kind, wasn't it.

Sky was an absolute fool. A big, overreacting, overemotional, blind to the obvious, head-in-the-clouds, too caught up in his own daydreams to use his _brain_ , certifiable _idiot_.

Why couldn't he be cool and analytical like Four? He always seemed so balanced, so logical, but also sensitive. Brave, but not foolish. Why couldn't Sky be like that? Why was he such a total _airhead?_

Oh, right he had to answer Wind's question. This wasn't the time for self-loathing, yes let's just bundle all that up and stuff it in the closet for a moment. We'll open it later, when we're more stable and can properly handle it. For now, let's focus on Wind.

"I... don't know. I guess I woke up for watch, saw your sword and your Wind Waker, but not you, and thought the worst. I overreacted. I'm sorry."

"It's ok. I mean, it is pretty early in the morning. You really do need your sleep, don't you." Wind chuckled slightly at his own words, trying to break the tense feeling in the air. 

"Yeah, I suppose so. Let's head back to camp."

"Yeah. Let's do that."

After the few moments it took them to figure out where exactly camp _was_ , they headed back, Sky sitting down by the fire with a sigh.

"Do you, uh, want me to sit with you?"

"If you want. I mean, last time we shared a watch, it didn't exactly go well."

"What? Why not?"

"I..." _Why_ not? Sky was starting to think he should really be asking these questions to himself instead of jumping to conclusions. _Why_ did he think that watch didn't go well? He felt like Wind was slighting him, somehow, but he honestly couldn't remember what either of them said, just a sort of... tenseness. Then Wind had gotten up to go check on some noise he heard, but it was nothing. Then they sat in silence. Was it an awkward silence, or a companionable one? How does one even tell the difference? Oh, Hylia, Sky had been overreacting this whole time, wasn't he. Of course they were both being quiet, it was to keep an eye out. There was a _reason_ that they only had one person on watch at a time. This revelation that Wind wasn't upset and didn't hate him should have been a relief, but it somehow only made Sky feel worse.

"Do whatever you want."

Wind opted to sit back down with him, looking at him _again with that same face_ . That hopeful-helpful mix that made Sky feel warm and fuzzy but also icy cold because did Wind think something was wrong with him? That he needed pity? He was _fine_.

The two sat in silence until Wind scooted closer into his side. Sky absentmindedly held out his sailcloth and Wind wrapped it around himself, snuggling into its warmth.

This was nice.

"Hey, um. Sky, are you _okay_?"

Sky was jolted from his thoughts—what thoughts? What had he been thinking? Did he seriously just zone out entirely? What was _wrong_ with him?

"Yeah, I'm f—"

"Aight cut the crap and give it to me straight or so _help_ me I'm gonna steal your love letters to Sun and let Legend read them in front of everyone."

Sky didn't say anything.

"Fine people don't go running off into the woods thinking someone's _dead_ when they're just, like, sleepwalking or something. Fine people don't have horrible dark rings under their eyes even though they usually get at least ten hours a night. _Fine_ people don't hang back from the group when we're walking or stare into space _constantly_ and never participate in conversations!" Wind tried to take some deep breaths and he leaned forward to get a better look at Sky's face, pulling the sailcloth tighter around his shoulders. "You've been like this ever since we tried to play that game of Never Have I Ever. Just because you never fought Ganon, that doesn't mean you're somehow less of a hero than the rest of us. I mean, I fought three big baddies and two of them weren't even Ganondorf. Odds are, someone was bound to not have to put up with him. And honestly, this Demise guy sounds a lot scarier. Like Ganondorf's a dude. I mean yeah he's a bad dude and he's nasty with a sword and stupid hard to kill, but like, you've fought some real big baddies, too. Don't sell yourself short, Sky."

Sky looked at Wind. Just, looked at him. What should he say? What _could_ he say? The kid read him like a book. Well, not quite, but he was scarily observant and honestly pretty spot on. What did his face look like? What was his body language suggesting? Sky didn't even know how _he_ felt. What did Wind think he was thinking?

"We all love you, Sky. Really. You're the sweetest, kindest, most caring of all of us. The gods know we need someone like you. What with all the Legend's and Time's and, well, _me's_ trying to be all tough and brave, someone who's as down to earth as you are—no pun intended—is really welcome here. You don't care about bravery and valor and appearances. You're so genuine and it's clear that you really care about us. And you're _scarily_ good with that sword. Like holy sh*t you're f*cking terrifying with that thing. Remind me to never get on your bad side. We all really admire you, Sky. You're so brave and kind, seemingly without even trying. And you find wonder in all the smallest things. Remember that time you saw the ocean for the first time? It blew me away! Wow, my pun game is on point today. I've lived by the ocean my whole life, so it never struck me as odd or strange. I still love it with all my heart, though. Which is why watching your reaction to it was _surreal_ . Your wonder and amazement at it. It was really something else oh gods of f*ck i'm totally rambling again _my point is that—_ "

"Wind."

"Yeah?"

"I love you, too."

Wind only responded by snuggling in closer against him.

They sat by the fire in silence for a while. Sky's arm at some point decided it wanted to wrap itself around Wind's shoulders and did so without Sky's permission. He was okay with it, though. What Wind said, was he being genuine? It sure _sounded_ like it. But that was because Wind didn't know. Wind didn't know that the reason he had to leave his grandmother and save his sister and go through that temple that was so scary he had to learn breathing exercises and fight Ganondorf was because of Sky. _But Wind had to fight two other abominations that weren't even Ganondorf. Your evil isn't the only one in Hyrule. Maybe it was actually good that Wind fought Ganondorf. How else would he have gained the strength needed to defeat the other evils plaguing his land?_

That didn't erase Sky's guilt. That didn't mean what he did or what he caused was in any way okay. It didn't mean Sky was somehow good or strong or brave or not a failure. It _didn't_. What it meant was that Sky hadn't screwed Wind over as much as he thought he had and Wind, at least, said he loved him. All Sky had to do was make sure Wind never found out that it was Sky's fault his sister got kidnapped and everything would be okay. Sky could relax around him again. Maybe it really was all gonna be ok.

"Here's your Wind Waker back, by the way."

“Oh, thanks. How’d it end up with your stuff?”

“Don’t ask me, it was there when I woke up.”

“Huh. Well, you’re one of the lucky few people to ever touch my Wind Waker! Normally people lose any finger they try to lay on it.”

Sky couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

As Sky's mood lightened, so did the surrounding trees. There was a bit of a forest around them, but from their vantage point, they could see all across Hyrule Field. A golden glow clipped the tips of the distant evergreens, sliding down their forms until it crept across the land, shattering the grasses into twinkling auroras of dewdrops. There weren't really fields in Sky's Hyrule. Not like this. The grasses in the sky were often coated in a thin layer of frost in the morning, but their sparkling was bright and crystalline, not warm and colorful like the light on the dew in Hyrule Field was.

"Okay, I think it's time to wake up Wild for breakfast, but you're gonna have to move first." Sky smiled down at Wind's small form burritoed™ up in his sailcloth. Judging by the "mm-mm" and the wriggling, Wind had no intention of doing so. Well, desperate times called for desperate measures. Sky took a single finger and held it right above where Wind's side would be. _Three... two... one..._ no motion? Well, Wind's loss. He jabbed his finger down, sticking it right into the soft spot between his ribs. Immediately, Wind jolted up, thrashing.

"SKY, WHAT THE F*CK THAT'S SO F*CKING RUDE YOU PIECE OF SH*T I'M GONNA END YOU OR SO HELP ME I—"

" _Wind_. Everyone's still asleep."

"Well if I ain't gonna sleep cuz of y'all, y'all ain't never gonna sleep cuz of me!"

Everyone was not still asleep, actually. Wild had jolted up at Winds initial shouts and was now going about his morning, looking severely put off by Wind's ruckus ruining the early stillness he usually got to cherish for his own.

"Wind, please shut up."

Wind and Sky stopped their bickering, looking over at Wild. He looked about as... well, wild and unkempt as he usually did, aside from the deep irritation that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his core.

"I don't need your shouting first thing in the morning. Can I have some peace and quiet, _please?_ "

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, Wild. I forgot how much you hate waking up to loud noises. Can I, uh, collect anything for you?"

"Yes. You can collect _yourself_ and sit down quietly. For the love of Hylia I do _not_ need this right now."

"And here I thought _I_ was grouchy in the mornings," Sky laughed, softly, crouching next to Wild. "I'm really sorry we disturbed you like this. Is there any way we can help?"

Wild sighed. "You can collect me five Razorshrooms. They have to look like this:" Wild pulled out his Sheikah Slate, showing the picture to Wind. Make sure they're nice and big. At least the size of your fist.

"Got it," he replied and rushed into the woods, eager to make up for his earlier transgression.

Sky smiled, raising an eyebrow. "I'm going to guess those don't even grow in this kind of environment."

Wild's face softened out of irritation, and into something that was a tad... bittersweet? But with a touch of regret, perhaps?

"Even if they did, they'd be horribly out of season."

Sky chuckled, looking back at Wild. Now the poor kid just looked tired. He'd leave him be for now.

The group shuffled into consciousness after that, Wild eventually using his slate to inform Wind that luckily, he was able to edit the recipe to account for the lack of mushrooms and he should come back and grab breakfast while it was warm.

It didn't take Wind long to get back at all.

The group laughed around the fire, shaking off the morning chill and enjoying the general camaraderie. Wild quietly cleaned up the cooking utensils—they used to have a rotation for that like they did for watch, but Wild got so fed up by the way they treated his stuff that he took over, which was a little weird for someone who took such bad care of his weapons—and began packing up his bedroll. The rest of the camp followed suit and before they knew it, they were back on the road again.

Sky hung next to Wind, chatting and laughing with him, but watching Warriors out of the corner of his eye. Was it ridiculous to still be worried about him? Probably. Was Sky going to keep an eye on him anyway? Yes.

Speaking of Warriors, it looked like he was getting the roasting of his life from Legend. Sky just _had_ to tune in to this.

"Yeah? And why's it that you only ever fight with a sword when we're in combat? Aside from the Fire Rod _I_ lent you."

"Because... I use a sword."

"Yeah, yeah, we all do, I mean like... do you have _anything_ remotely interesting?"

"Are bombs, boomerangs, bows, and clawshots not _interesting_ enough to you?"

"No! No they are not! I have at least four of _each_ of those!" He sighed dramatically. "I guess Hylia just couldn't bring herself to give you the coolest arsenal in the history of literally everything ever like she did me." He tossed an arm over his forehead dramatically like Sky thought he'd seen Ravio do once. "Oh the _horror_ of being objectively lame and weaponless. The _terror_ of not having an ounce of magic in that sad, hollow head of yours."

"I'll show you a _hollow_ head!"

"With what item? It's not like you have a magic mirror on you! You can borrow mine if you want to take a nice long look at a hollow head. If only someone would bless our dear friend Warriors here with an arsenal as impressive as his achievements." Legend sneered. "Oh wait, he already has one."

Even Sky had to let out an "ooooooooooooh" at that one. Warriors was starting to fight back, though.

"Yeah? Well at least my arsenal includes _pants!_ "

"It's a _personal choice!_ "

"And at least it _doesn't include pink hair dye!_ "

"Pink is dope as f*ck!"

"And at least I can actually _keep track_ of all my items. What was it? That one time when we were in the mountains..."

"Don't you f*cking dare..."

"And it was _winter_..."

"I hate you so much."

"And there was that huge _blizzard_..."

"I am going to staple you to a tree."

"And it was nearly impassable. _Whatever_ were we to do?"

"By your hair."

"Luckily, Wind was able to calm the blizzard and we were able to use our fire rods—"

" _My_ fire rods."

"—to melt the snow and ice blocking the way."

"Stapling is too kind. I'm going to use my _rather impressive arsenal_ to pin you to a tree like f*cking _butterfly_."

"It took us three days to get through that pass."

"I'm leaving."

"And what happened a week later?"

"I'm leaving and I'm taking _all my items_ with me."

"Legend found the Rod of Seasons at the bottom of his bag."

"OH _I'M SORRY_ I DON'T HAVE A NEAT LITTLE _CATALOGUE_ OF EVERY ITEM I'VE EVER USED! IF IT WASN'T FOR ME, WE WOULDN'T HAVE EVEN MADE IT _THROUGH_ THAT PASS AT _ALL_!"

The group laughed at Legend's expense, and he responded by shoving his hand into Warriors' pack, grabbing his Fire Rod back, and running for the hills.

They had to admit, nobody could catch up with that kid's pegasus boots.

The day continued in a similar manner, neither Wind nor Warriors being at all concerning, which put Sky's mind at ease greatly. Eventually, Sky caught sight of Legend again, hanging towards the back of the group with Wild. The rest of the gang was being a bit too chaotic for Sky's taste at the moment, anyway, so he slowed his pace a bit to subtly listen in.

"—I'm telling you, this could solve all your problems."

"But it's your _Sheikah Slate_ . Like that's your _thing_."

"But we can share it! I'm breaking weapons faster than I'm finding them, plus the weapons in these Hyrules are a lot more durable than my own. I don't need so much space anymore."

"Wild, I appreciate the offer, but I've got it handled."

"No, _think about it_ . A neat little catalogue of every item, right there at your fingertips. You need an item? Poof! There it is! _Warriors will never be able to tease you like that again._ "

Legend scoffed. "The last thing I need is help with _Warriors'_ teasing."

Wild waited for it.

"...but I think I might have to take you up on the offer of a neat little catalogue. How does it work?"

Wild grinned that _mission accomplished_ grin of his, but it was subtle. "You see..."

The specifics sailed right over Sky's head, but he enjoyed the quiet background chatter of their conversation as he drifted into thought. It seemed like everything was okay, wasn't it. Warriors was back to teasing Legend, Wind was happily enjoying the show, heck, even Legend and Wild were bonding. All was right with the world.

Their path became narrow, a thin passage between two small cliffs, trees obscuring everything ahead, before they turned a bend in the trail and found themselves standing before a structure that could only be described as _grand._

A wide staircase stretched up, bordered by an embellished stone wall. Turrets rose up behind it, red and gold banners fluttering in the afternoon breeze. Farther back, more walls and banners and turrets and towers and arches and stone work and towers and Sky wasn’t entirely sure if he could process _any_ of it. It just kept _going._ In the distance stood the largest tower of all, a great spire cloaked in mist that rose above the other rooves ahead. The entire thing must have been larger than Skyloft and it was so big and tall and _pointy_ and Sky was really running out of adjectives for this place.

“So this is your Castle Town?” 

This? A _town?_

“My version, yeah.”

“Woah! Are we gonna head inside?”

Twilight cocked his head for a moment. “It’s still midday. I’d like to get a little farther. I think you’d all enjoy hanging out at Lake Hylia more than Castle Town anyway.”

Hyrule nodded vigorously, Wild joining him. Wind looked a little crestfallen, but everyone else seemed pretty satisfied with Twilight’s proposal, Time eyeing the castle curiously for a moment before following Twilight into a field off to the side.

After walking a little longer, the sun sinking deeper into the sky, they reached a place to camp, and Wild quietly prepared dinner. Well, not _that_ quietly.

"Hey, Sky. Wanna help me with dinner?"

"Oh, um sure. I'm not the best cook in the world, but I'll see what I can do."

"I could teach you, if you want. Help you become a better cook! Don't get me wrong, I love making food for you guys, but it's tiring. I'd like to have a little more help from time to time. Maybe you can get so good that I could even have a day _off_ from cooking!"

Sky laughed. "Now you've got _far_ too much faith in me."

"I don't think so. Besides, wouldn't you like to impress Sun with a nice, homemade meal?"

Now _that_ got Sky's attention. Sun _would_ like that, wouldn't she.

"Alright, you sold me. Whatcha makin?"

"I'm about to teach you how to make _curry_."

Sky wasn't actually that bad in the kitchen. Wild was an excellent teacher and he was a quick learner.

The curry was delicious and Wild mostly sat back and told Sky what to do. It was really nice, actually. Therapeutic, a bit.

The whole group enjoyed the curry, and thus, Sky became Wild's protégée, in a way.

"This is great!" Twilight remarked, "I always wanted to be a grand-mentor!"

Four laughed. "Does that make the Old Man a great-grandmentor?"

"As if the Old Man wasn't old enough before!" Warriors added.

Four settled in for watch as everyone else shuffled to bed, spirits high.

Sky was glad they didn’t know the truth.

* * *

Sky woke up to gentle tapping on his shoulder. He didn’t used to be this light of a sleeper, did he? It was barely light. Was there another fight? No, it was too quiet. Sky knew this time well. It was the stillness of early dawn, when he always kept watch. A scarred face smiled down, backed by the slowly lightening sky.

“Hey, Sky, wanna help me with breakfast? I’m making omelettes.”

“Oh. Um, sure.” Sky sat up, rubbing his eyes. Twilight sat nearby, perched on a rock and scanning the area in between idle tosses of his boomerang. 

They made brief eye contact and exchanged a nod before Sky squatted down in front of the pot—never sit, Wild said, it prevents you from getting up quickly if it spills—and began sauteéing mushrooms. He could feel Twilight’s eyes on his back.

Sky wasn’t sure how to feel about Twilight. There was of course respect, camaraderie, admiration, and a sense of brotherhood—they were about the same age, had both ventured on one quest, were extraordinarily protective, were good with kids and dealing with the emotions of others, and had similar feelings about the Master Sword. The similarities ended there, though, with Twilight having a quiet to him, a pensive edge, that Sky didn’t have. While Sky was a beast on the battlefield—or so he was told—he as a person, was soft. His love was soft, but so were his grief and guilt, which softly pressed against his self, steeping in and making it impossible to tell where the pain stopped and Sky started. Twilight was hard. His love was firm and stalwart, but so was his darkness. It wasn’t the black fog that Sky had. He could tell that Twilight had a sort of scar, a deep, dark, jagged tear across his soul. His pain was just as intertwined with his identity as Sky’s was. While Sky’s was like the gentle bleeding together of watercolors, Twilight’s was like a bold streak of black on a golden canvas. Sky didn’t really know how to approach him. He supposed Twilight was a bit like Time in that sense, but Time was considerably harder to read. And by considerably, Sky meant that the man was damn near impossible to figure out. Sky knew Time liked masks, but sometimes he was worried that the hero’s love for them had gone a touch too far.

Sky chopped up the onion Wild handed him and tossed it into the pot as he cracked eggs into a separate container. Twilight seemed open enough, but Sky could see in his eyes that every joke about romance had a somber hue. Could Sky even talk to him? It was one of the reasons Sky didn’t feel like he could talk to any of them, not really. They’d all been through so much hardship and struggle. Lost so much. Even if it hadn’t been at the hands of Sky, he’d probably still feel guilty because his adventure had been so much _easier_ . Not that he knew much of any of theirs, but he had to fight Ghirahim and The Imprisoned _so many times_ before they actually stayed down. It sounded like everyone else only needed to fight an enemy once or twice before they stayed out of their hair forever. It was almost as if Sky’s adventure was far, far easier than theirs, but because he was so much weaker, it felt like it was a comparable difficulty. But he knew that his challenges could never live up to theirs. It would be like him venting to Legend about being forced to leave his home. It was just _wrong_. So Sky sat in silence, quietly heeding Wild’s instructions as Twi watched over the camp. There was something quaint about it, something domestic. Like they were a little family. Though, he supposed, that made him the baby of the family, considering he was now Wild’s protégeé. 

Wild began humming softly as the omelettes sizzled in the pan, handing spices to Sky that he absentmindedly sprinkled in. Twilight left his perch on the rock and wandered over, squatting by the fire.

“It smells really good, Sky.”

“Oh, thanks. It’s Wild’s recipe, though.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not your handiwork.”

Sky smiled slightly at that.

“Yeah!” Wild agreed, clapping Sky on the shoulder overly enthusiastically before seemingly realizing something and sobering a bit. “I’ll wake the others.”

“Thanks, Wild,” Twilight smiled, sitting by Sky as the caped hero began to portion the omelettes into dishes.

“No problem at all.”

Before long, the heroes found themselves back on the road again, stomachs filled and mood light. Sky was deciding whether or not he wanted to join the main conversation when he spotted Warriors, walking a little ways ahead of the group, chatting with Twilight.

It wasn’t paranoia if he was just being social, right?

He hurried his pace, catching up with the pair before slowing, keeping a respectful distance away.

Warriors looked back at him, a look of kindness and slight confusion on his face. 

“Don’t be shy, Sky. You’re allowed to join the conversation, you know.”

Sky startled a touch at that.

“Oh, I didn’t want to intrude on your conversation.”

“Nonsense!” Twilight smiled, “we’re practically brothers! Intrude anytime, you’re far better conversation than Warriors, anyway.”

Practically _what now?_ _Brothers?_ That was not the sense Sky had been getting. 

“Well, Warriors is welcome to talk to me anytime,” he tried to smile, but faltered when remembering that heart-stopping moment on the battlefield. Even if his hunch was wrong, he’d hate for comments like Twi’s to get taken to heart. They really did tease Warriors a lot, didn’t they.

“Anyway, what were you two talking about?”

“Blondie here was _whining_ about one of the baddies he had to fight back on his quest.”

“I had to fight Volga _five_ _times_! He’s a knight who can literally _turn into a dragon!_ Did you see the _scar_ that guy left on my arm! It’s nuts! He wouldn’t stay dead!”

“Pssssh, that’s just because you suck at swordplay.”

“And you’ve never had to fight an enemy more than once in your life.”

“No, not at all. This idiot, King Bulbin. The number of times I ran into him… It was probably five, actually. No, I’m teasing you because you were _complaining_ about him. King Bulbin threw me off a _bridge_ . I probably should have died. And this other time he literally set the building I was in on _fire_ and barricaded the entrance _._ I had to try and ride one of their Bulbos, these giant bloodthirsty boar, to get it to crash through the barrier.”

Wait, did everyone else have repeating enemies, too? They couldn’t defeat everyone on the first or second try? Was this… normal?

Warriors, not one to admit defeat, deflected the focus of the conversation onto Sky. “You have any nasty enemies that just wouldn’t leave you alone?”

Sky started for a moment at the sudden spotlight. Enemies that wouldn’t leave him alone? _My subconscious, my guilt, myself, oh Ghirahim was rude._

“Um, there was this guy. Well I think he was technically a demon. Or was he a sword? It was kind of unclear. He was like… if Fi is the spirit of the Master Sword, he was the spirit of Demise’s blade. I ran into him… six times I think? Real creepy. No regard for personal space.”

Warriors and Twilight evidently found that amusing and started laughing. 

“No, really. He like stuck his tongue weirdly close to my face. Zero out of ten do not recommend.”

“Oh the creepy ones that get in your face are the worst. When they come up behind you and put their mouth right behind your ear, _ugh!_ ”

“Yes! Exactly! Very ugh!”

“At least they didn’t flirt with you,” Warriors shuddered. “That’s really the last thing you need.”

Sky made a show of thinking for a moment. “I honestly couldn’t tell sometimes.”

Twilight laughed and slung his arm over Sky’s shoulder. “Sorry, Wars, I guess you have the most courteous enemies of all of us!”

“What does that even mean!?”

“It means that you have no right to be complaining about them, that’s what!”

Warriors started sulking and let Twilight and Sky pull farther ahead of him. Twilight’s arm was still over his shoulders and he was trying to decide what to make of the whole conversation. Twilight clearly enjoyed spending time with him and wanted to talk to him, but he also teased Warriors for complaining about fighting enemies that were ‘too easy.’ He said he didn’t have a “right” to be complaining. Did that mean that Sky really did need to have a harder journey to even qualify? He had to admit, the companionship was nice, and for a moment he felt like he really belonged, but no, if Twilight knew the specifics, he’d surely dismiss him as complaining over nothing as well.

A few moments after Warriors had left, Twilight turned to Sky and he could feel the mood turn more serious, like a drop in temperature.

“You alright, Sky? You’ve seemed really out of it lately.”

Sky felt his shoulders drop. “I dunno. I guess I’ve just been a little on edge.”

Twilight gave him a side glance and tilted his head slightly. “Any particular reason?”

“I honestly wish I knew. I feel like I’m going crazy and seeing things, but I just—I don’t know.” _Dammit, Sky, why are you spilling your guts to Twilight? Are you trying to make him lose all his respect for you? You coulda told Wind! But no, you_ had _to go and—_

“What kinds of things?” 

“I—I dunno. I guess I’m just being overprotective.”

Twilight smiled softly at that. “Believe me, I know the feeling. I get that way about Wild all the time. It’s even worse with him being so reckless. Who’s it for you?”

“Wind. And uh, Warriors, too, I guess.”

“Huh. I guess that makes sense.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I guess I am. I mean, Wind I get but _Warriors_?”

“I mean, there was that time two battles ago where—”

“Oh, Wars almost got hurt real bad. And this last battle Wind was being all reckless, too. Oh, yeah this must have been really stressful for you, then. Whenever something bad happens to Wild—or anyone, really—it puts me on edge for a while. You wanna talk about it or try and take your mind off it?”

“I think the latter might be nice.”  
“Sure thing.” Twi grinned. “Did I ever tell you about the spinner?”

“The what now?”

“ _This.”_ He accented this by whipping a massive—honestly it looked like a top—about the size of Twilight himself if he were to get down on all fours out from—wait where did that _come_ from?

He hopped on top of it and balanced on it for a moment, zipping forward a little ways before losing momentum and slowing to a stop, stepping off in the process. 

“Well, that… um… sure is a thing, alright.”

“Just you wait, once we get to Arbiter’s Grounds, there’ll be these little indents in the wall that line up with these prong-thingies. You can glide right across the wall. It’s fun as hell. It’s probably the only redeeming quality about that hellhole.” 

That last sentence was like a slap to the face. “Is… is there something we should know about Arbiter’s Grounds before we get there?”

Judging by the look on Twilight’s face, he was just as surprised that he had said that as Sky was.

“Oh, well I mean it’s super creepy. Packed to the brim with ghosts and skeletons and like the tortured souls of the innocent. Or the guilty, actually, I think it used to be a prison. They sealed Ganondorf away there. Couldn’t kill the guy so they sent him… away. But I killed him so it’s okay now.”

Sky did not look pleased by this information. And no, he didn’t feel particularly pleased either.

“Um. Anything else we should know? Aside from the whole haunted murder prison of darkness and banishment?”

“Um… there’s quicksand?”

“Oh hooray. Love me some quicksand. I mean, is it really even a desert dungeon if you walk three feet without sinking into the ground and almost dying?”

“Y’know, I really wish I could say you were wrong. It’s almost as bad as ice.”

“Ice? What’s wrong with ice?”

Twilight looked at him for a long moment. “You are so lucky.”

“So, uh, is the trip there anywhere as unpleasant as the place itself?”

“I mean, we’re actually really close to Lake Hylia now. We’ll probably spend the night there before heading up to the desert.”

“Oh, cool.”

“I sure hope Zelda finished building that path she had been talking about before I left.”

Sky stopped walking for a moment. “And what if she hasn’t?”

Twilight continued to walk. “Oh, that’s not a problem, I’ll just ask Fyer for a lift.”

Sky jogged to catch up before saying, “I have a terrible feeling that lift does not, in this case, mean Loftwing.”

“Nope, it’s something far, far better.”

They continued to walk for a few moments longer.

“You realize I’m waiting for you to say what it is, right? ‘Cause like you can’t say something like that and then _not_ explain what you’re talking about.”

“Well _I’m_ not going to tell you.”

“And I have a feeling nothing can make you. Unless… ” Sky let a grin creep onto his face but stopped abruptly when Twilight grabbed his arm.

“ _Don’t_ sic Time on me.”

“So… ”

Twilight sighed. “You get launched out of a cannon.”

“Oh, so you guys have them, too? That’s neat.”

Twilight stopped. “What did you just say?”

“You guys have cannons, too. I said it was neat.”

Twilight jogged to catch up with Sky. “Honestly, I shouldn’t even be surprised anymore.”

Sky enjoyed the companionable silence with Twilight. This one was companionable, right? Sky _felt_ pretty companionable. But now he knew Twilight would demean his adventures if he ever revealed how simple his had been. Okay. No telling anyone about the curse and no telling Twilight about his journey. It was a fragile balance, one built on secrets and lies, but Sky was weak and lonely and guilty and this was the solution. Just enough love to soften the darkness inside him, but enough pain and guilt to make sure he was still getting what he deserved. This was clearly the best option. 

They continued walking, the cliffs on either side of the field converging into a choke point where the ground suddenly dropped away at a ninety degree angle.

Beneath them, between the outstretched cliffs, they could see water, sparkling, blue, yet somehow crystal clear. It continued on, disappearing under a great bridge solidly planted on the cliffs above. The bridge had what once were column-like supports beneath it that looked to be eroded into mere stubs. The stump of a great tree rose out of a cliff, dry and hollow as a bone. It was a breathtaking scene. 

“Alrighty! Welcome one and all to Lake Hylia!” Twilight called, spinning on his heel while lazily striding dangerously near to the cliff’s edge. “It’s a beautiful day to unwind with a swim, so what do you say to heading on down?”

“Are you sure, Twilight? I thought we were bee-lining it to Arbiter’s Grounds.”

“We are. You’ve gotta head into Lake Hylia to get up to Gerudo Desert. We literally have to go this way.”

“Um, Twi? _Which_ way?”

Twilight grinned, a devilish gleam twinkling in his eye. Oh no. This was Wild’s look. Either Twilight had learned it from Wild or it was hereditary or however any of this stuff worked, but it was That Really Bad Gleam™which meant something was about to get set on fire or severely damaged. 

“This way!”

With that, Twilight, from where he was facing the group with his back to the lake, easily backflipped into the air over the edge of the cliff, plummeting into the area below.

“Excuse me, but what the F*CK?”

“Did he actually just jump off the cliff?”

“It _was_ a pretty sick backflip, though.”

“Wait, he doesn’t have a sailcloth or paraglider or even a weirdly magical leaf. Is he okay?”

“I’m sure Twilight knows what he’s doing.”

“Yeah but does he expect us to just jump off after him? Not… not all of us can swim.”

“I’ll make sure everyone gets to shore safely. This is Twilight’s Hyrule so he knows it better than any of us. Those of us who can’t swim should probably use some form of glider, just to be safe.”

“Hyrule can take my leaf! I wanna do a cannonball!”

“Uh… thanks, Wind”

Timed turned his back to the lake to face the rest of the heroes. “Okay, let’s do this in an orderly fashion, and… Wind totally just jumped off the cliff, didn’t he.”

“If Wind’s screaming is any indication, then yes.”

A splash could faintly be heard, but it was mostly obscured by the sound of Time’s palm smacking into his forehead.

“I guess I’ll go next,” Sky offered, trying to break the awkwardness. “Does anyone want my sailcloth?” 

Warriors glanced around. “I’ll hang onto it in case anyone wants it. You can go.”

Sky nodded, handing it over and, checking to make sure he still had Faron’s scale, got a running start before leaping off the cliff and stretching out his arms in a perfect swan dive. Muscles relaxed but poised, he sliced through the water like a knife, letting the crisp lake envelop him. He tensed upon impact, but now it was as if every fiber in his being could finally relax. He was shocked out of his daze and snapped straight to his senses. The haze that had drifted over him those past few days seemed to crystallize into something that made sense. Something that could be dealt with. Feeling _okay_ for the first time in a while, Sky oriented himself towards where he estimated the rest of the group was and launched himself out of the water, spiraling through the air like the dragon whose scale he bore. He felt the droplets ripple off his skin in a torrent of sparkling dewdrops and he landed on the shore with a flourish, the impressiveness of his maneuver further accented by the undignified smacking of Legend’s face on the surface of the water.

He climbed out, sputtering angrily, and pulling off his flippers. 

“Legend what the f*ck was that? It was the worst dive I’ve ever seen!” Wind laughed, pointing at Legend’s pouting face.

The veteran responded with a mumble, but from where Twi was standing near the shore, he could evidently make out what Legend said and started _cackling._

“What? What happened? Tell me tell me tell me! Twi!”

“Settle down, Wind. You see, our dear friend Legend here got shoved off by _Hyrule._ ”

They all laughed at that, Legend blushing even redder than he was before.

“HE TOLD ME HE WAS WORRIED ABOUT THE DROP AND NOT BEING ABLE TO SWIM AND THEN JUST SHOVED ME IN!”

“That’s hilarious.”

“IT WAS CRUEL!” Legend sniffled dramatically before adding, “I feel betrayed. If I can’t trust Hyrule, who can I trust?”

“You can trust me!” Wind smiled, inching towards Legend with a grin creeping across his face.

“Stay the F*CK away from me, you horrible gremlin child.”

Wind pouted before moving next to Sky and clutching his arm. “Fine. But _Sky_ loves me, right?”

“Of course I do. Now give me back my wallet,” Sky let a similar grin creep across his face before plucking his—rather heavy—purse out from behind Wind’s back.

Their banter was interrupted by the form of Wild cutting smoothly into the water like an arrow and the slightly larger splash that resulted from a blue blur punching through the surface of the lake. Wild pulled himself onto the shore, silently changing from his zora armor to his champion’s tunic in a flash of cerulean. 

Time joined the others on the bank as well, pulling a dripping wet deep blue tunic off, revealing the armor that he somehow left on underneath.

“Time, how the f*ck did you swim in like four tunics and a suit of _armor_?”

The Old Man’s response was to simply wink, leaving the others speechless as Warriors, Hyrule, and Four floated down on the sailcloth, deku leaf, and paraglider respectively.

“Perfect!” Twi called out, clapping his hands for emphasis. “Welcome to Lake Hylia, everyone!”

“One hell of a welcome,” Legend grumbled, and everyone laughed, having witnessed either the initial shove or Legend’s undignified splat on the water. 

“You should have seen it!” Warriors laughed, clapping Hyrule on the shoulder. “It was a masterwork of positioning, spacing, deception, and strength. A tactical magnum opus. Truly, that’s one for the history books.”

The group laughed, admiring the now somehow even _more_ impressive architecture of Twilight’s world, the bridge looming above them and catching the evening sunlight in a burst of amber. Sunsets were always dramatic in the affectionately nicknamed Twi-rule, bathing everything in honey-golden glow. It was stunning. The great cliffs rising up around the lake cast dramatic shadows across its surface, glittering like ambrosia. 

“We’re almost to a great camping spot. It’s just over this little isthmus-thingy.” Twilight gestured to a collection of stone protrusions that just barely reached the surface of the water in some places. The group members that were already thoroughly soaked headed on without complaint, but Hyrule, Warriors, and Four sighed in resignation. They walked across the ridge-like landform, the ground sometimes dipping below the water, causing Four to have to wade in water up to his waist. They were about halfway across when the ground dipped _far_ below the surface of the water.

“Sky?”

“Yeah, Four?”

“Can you, uh, give me a hand across this? It’s probably deeper than I am tall.” He laughed, but there was a note of shyness to it. Sky smiled, still in a surprisingly good mood, and stepped behind Four before sticking his head between the smithy’s legs and scooping him up onto his shoulders.

“Sky!” Four laughed, caught off-guard by the sudden change in altitude.

“Woah, you’re _light,_ ” Sky remarked, settling Four onto his shoulders and charging through the deeper water excitedly until it suddenly dropped off, plunging both of them into the lake.

The cool liquid embraced him in a roaring cascade of bubbles. Sky’s head burst above the surface of the water and he scanned for Four. He spotted the blond head bobbing in the water next to him scowling playfully, and the two made their way to the opposite shore.

The other heroes made their way across in a slightly more dignified fashion, most of them just swimming like normal human beings. Legend, however, ever the showoff, stood on the far bank, tapping his feet in place for a moment before charging forward and _flying_ over the gap with the speed of a cannonball, even doing a front flip for style, and sticking the landing next to Sky, smirking proudly and leaving Hyrule and Warriors on the other bank. 

“Come on, guys! What’s the holdup?”

Legend stared at the duo for a moment before his eyes widened for a moment and he whispered, “Hyrule can’t swim.”

“ _Oh_.”

“Does anyone know how to get him across?”

Wild silently stepped towards the shore, pulling out his Sheikah slate and pointing it forwards. Instantly, a block of solid ice rose from the water and settled into it with a crackling sound, creating a floating platform in the middle of the strait. Hyrule smiled, though, making no motion to step towards it and instead leapt into the air in a swirl of blue, soaring fifteen feet above the ground and sailing over the gap, landing next to a startled—and admittedly rather impressed looking—Legend, who clapped him on the back approvingly. That left Warriors, who jumped onto the ice block and, after taking a moment to steady himself on the platform, leapt to the shore.

Four jogged up to Wild, smiling companionably. “Hey, why didn’t you do the ice thingy _before_ we swam across? Then Sky wouldn’t have dropped me into the lake!”

Wild only shrugged in response, fiddling with his slate and avoiding everyone’s eyes.

“It’s just over this bridge until the spot where we can camp,” called Twilight, gesturing ahead.

“Would it have killed them to add a bridge back there?”

“Are you kidding me?” Hyrule asked, bumping his shoulder against Legend’s. “Twi’s infrastructure is awesome! Have you _seen_ his bridges?” He gestured up towards the Great Bridge of Hylia. “It’s amazing.”

From where Sky was walking towards the front of the group, he could catch Twilight’s fond, proud smile. He really did love his world, didn’t he.

Eventually, they reached the place that Twilight had meant, a flat, raised landform above the surface of the water, and set up camp, Sky helping Wild with the dinner as the rest of the Links washed their belongings in the lake or went for a proper swim. Twilight made sure to tell everyone to fill up their waterskins and get as much water as they could carry: there wouldn’t be any in the desert.

They made a paella from the fish Twilight and Time managed to catch from the lake—Wild had been forbidden from fishing—and as they worked together to the melody of the sizzling pan, Wild suddenly broke the relative silence.

“Hey, Sky?”

“Yeah?”

“Have… have you ever failed?”

Sky froze. What kind of question was _that_ ? And he’d been doing so well, too. He’d finally felt _okay_. But now, of course, it all came to a screeching halt. He honestly should have expected this. So, should he tell the truth, or continue trying to put up his facade? But looking at Wild, at how solemn and nervous he looked, Sky couldn’t bring himself to lie. Not to Wild. Not now. 

“Um… yeah. I did.”

Wild looked up at Sky suddenly, evidently not receiving the answer he had been expecting. 

“Wait, when? If you don’t mind talking about it, I mean. I just—I thought I was the only one who had—”

Sky laughed self-deprecatingly. _Don’t tell him about Demise, don’t tell him about Demise, don’t tell him about Demise, don’t—_ “It’s okay. I… It was in Eldin, after my second dungeon. I went through, beat the boss and everything. I thought I was doing pretty okay, y’know? I’d never even _imagined_ anything like lava before I ended up on the Surface so I thought… after braving that whole dungeon and fighting Ghirahim’s monster, that I’d be able to make it to Zelda in time. But, when I got there, and saw her, Impa held her back and instructed her to go on ahead. I tried to follow, but…”

“ _It took you far too long to get here. Looking at you, I fear the goddess is mistaken in her choice of agents._ ”

“I…I didn’t get there in time.”

“ _If this failure is any indication, you have no hope of defending Her Grace from those who seek to assail her._ ”

“I was completely useless.”

“ _If I had not come when I did, your Zelda would already have fallen into the hands of the enemy._ ”

“Had it not been for Impa, it all would have been over before it had barely started. She would have been taken and…”

“ _The truth of it is you were late. You were late, and you failed to protect her._ ”

“I failed. The goddess shouldn’t have chosen me. Impa did all the actual work. I… I’m worthless.”

 _Frick_ , he did not mean to let that much slip.

Wild stared at Sky uncomprehendingly.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t talk about this. I had Impa to pick up my slack because I was a spoiled Sky child but you’re a skilled knight who was absolutely overrun by enemies. I have no right to—”

He was cut off by Wild throwing himself at Sky, wrapping his arms around the other hero’s torso and burying his face in Sky’s shoulder. He tried to protest, but Wild only clung tighter, nuzzling his face against Sky’s neck. Sky slowly let his hands fall onto Wild’s form, his right hand sifting through the other hero’s tangled locks as the other rubbed soothing circles into his back.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Wild, it’s okay.”

“Mnm,” Wild mumbled into Sky’s tunic, taking a deep, slow breath.

“What?”

Wild pulled back minutely so he could get his words out. “You’re not a failure. You’re not worthless. You’re the best of all of us, Sky. Remember that. Please.”   
That should have been comforting. And it was, for a moment, until Wind’s words from a few days before returned to him in a flash. 

_"No," He was earnest, insistent. "You're all amazing. Really truly amazing. You need to remember that."_

“What makes you say that?” Sky asked, craning his head in an attempt to see Wild’s face, legitimately curious as to why Wild thought he was the _best_ , but also trying to see if it had anything to do with Wind’s peculiar behavior in the days prior.

“You _forged the Master Sword_ . You fought the _root of all evil,_ from what I’ve heard, and _won_ . On your _first try._ And still, after all your trial and struggle, you still manage to be so open and sweet and kind and… _loving_ . It’s _amazing_ , Sky. And even moreso, you’re going to go on to found Hyrule, the kingdom that’s survived everything. No flood nor calamity nor force of evil can kill the kingdom that you bring to life. You’re something else, Sky. I really mean that.”

Sky felt his face heating up and was grateful Wild was still pressed against his chest. He squeezed Wild in his arms a little more firmly before the scent of burning rice reminded them that they were supposed to be cooking. The two hastily pulled apart and attempted to salvage their dinner.

The rest of the group settled in for dinner, Sky scraping as much of the burned rice into his bowl as he could to ensure nobody else had to eat it. The spices and the fish managed to save it, though, and the meal, all things considered, was pretty good. 

They cleaned up, Wild heading down to the lake to wash the pots and utensils as Sky’s eyes followed him curiously. The similarity between that sentence and Wind’s was still rubbing something in Sky the wrong way. Warriors was acting oddly. He must have been. Sky refused to write that off. It was _wrong_ . And then Wind was acting reckless, too. He nearly got himself killed, just like Warriors had. But he had also been acting especially kindly, insisting that they had to remember how amazing they were. Wild had said the same thing. Why that emphasis on remembering? Why that urgency? Wild had been quiet lately, too. Was something happening? Was it spreading? They all seemed _fine,_ though, except for Wild. 

Sky was getting sick of this. It was about time he enlisted some help. Someone analytical and observant. Someone who was easy to drop your guard around.

Tomorrow, he’d talk to Four.

* * *

Sky was woken by a gentle shake from Wild, who smiled with tired eyes as the morning sun shimmered off his honey-colored hair.

“Morning, sleepyhead! Think you can make breakfast all by yourself today? I’m thinking crepes.”

Sky rubbed his eyes and sat up, nodding to where Legend sat with his legs dangling over the edge of the cliff. Legend nodded back, returning his gaze to the lake.

Sky’s cooking went… as well as could be expected for someone who’d only had two days of anything resembling training. But he did alright, only needing Wild to step in and lend a spare hand one or twice. 

The group sat by the lake in the stillness of the morning, eating fresh warm crepes and chatting amicably. It was peaceful. Had it happened the day before, Sky would go so far as to say he was happy. But worry for his companions and a constant inner monologue obsessing over what he should say to Four had kept his mind in a constant state of dread. But he’d take care of it. He’d talk to Four and get this all figured out. Deep breaths. He didn’t quite need the feather trick that Wind had taught him a few days ago, but it was comforting to have a coping mechanism that he knew he could rely on.

The group went back on the move, packing up and heading along the lakeshore. As they turned a corner in the path, a huge hunk of metal, vaguely cylindrical, with what looked like… _bird feet_ could be seen perched on the ground.

Sky jogged lightly over to Twilight, nudging his shoulder with his own.

“Is that the cannon that you use to get to the desert?” Twi looked over questioningly, before recognition colored his features.

“Oh, no. That takes you to the City in the Sky.”

“The _where_?”

“The City in the—oh. Yeah, it’s like a floating bunch of islands held up by these big ol’ propellers. These creepy birds with human faces live there. But they’re nice and actually pretty helpful, so they’re okay.”

Sky stopped walking.

“The _what?_ ”

“I mean, Skyloft doesn't just crash into the ground, right? Once you move to the Surface, it’s not like it’s going anywhere.”

“But… there… were there Loftwings?”

Twi paused for a moment, but shook his head slowly. “Dragons and aeralfos, but the only birds were the Oocca and these vulture-looking birds, but you find them all over Hyrule. I’m… I’m sorry, Sky. I don’t know what’s up with the City in the Sky. There’s a lot of history I don’t really know, being a farmhand and all, but you have to remember that this is probably _thousands_ of years in your future. There’s no way of knowing what happened to Skyloft and the Loftwings. Worrying isn’t going to help. I mean, the Rito and the Zora exist in some Hyrules, but not others, and they’re super different between them all. Anything could have happened.”

Sky nodded understandingly, though at the moment he understood very little. Was the City in the Sky Skyloft? Twi said it was held aloft with propellers. Skyloft didn’t need such things. And there weren’t any Loftwings. But no, this was not a thing Sky needed on his mind right now. Nope, this was going into the closet where he stuffed all of his feelings he didn’t want to deal with. He had a mission. He had to talk to Four.

The group continued walking along Lake Hylia, the path curving upwards towards the ridge before them. A trail could be seen zigzagging up the ridge that would have divided the two areas. Sky hung back from the group, making brief eye contact with Four and jerking his head behind him. As Sky thanked Hylia for Four’s social awareness and applauded himself for his choice of confidants, Four nodded and fell into step with Sky, letting the others press ahead a little more.

“You wanted to talk to me?”

“Yeah. Something weird’s been going on, I think.”

Four’s eyes narrowed and an intelligent sparkle shone purple in his eyes. A smile slipped onto his face.

“Oh, do tell. I love a good mystery.”

“Okay, this is gonna sound really stupid and I’m probably going nuts, but—”

“That’s the best way to start any conversation.”

Sky laughed, the tension starting to wane, as he continued. “I think something’s going on. Warriors was acting… off. And I think he almost tried to… he was being really reckless in battle, but the look on his face was… peaceful. When I saved him, he seemed… _angry._ But then a few days later he was fine and _thanked_ me for helping him. But then Wind was acting differently. I don’t know if it transferred or what, because it wasn’t the same way Warriors had been acting, not exactly, but he almost got himself killed in that one battle and he had this bandage on his hand that he refused to tell me about. I didn’t notice it until after I leant him the Master Sword, and you know how she’ll burn your hand if you try to hurt one of us. Now that I think about it, Warriors asked for the Master Sword, too, before. And Wind insisted that we remember how amazing we were. He insisted. It felt… urgent. And the next morning when I woke up for watch, he was gone and the Wind Waker was with my stuff. And I ran after him but he was in the woods. Fine, but I don’t know if he knew how he got there. And now Wild’s been awfully quiet and… I’m worried about him. Wind tried to give me his Wind Waker, and now Wild’s been teaching Legend how to use his Sheikah Slate and me how to cook and yesterday he insisted that I remember that I’m a good person. He had that same urgency that Wind did. I don’t know if I’m going nuts, but—”

“No, I don’t think you are.”

 _Frick._ That was not what Sky had been expecting. He was hoping, somewhere deep inside, that Four would tell him that he was just imagining things, that everything was fine. But it wasn’t, was it. Four continued.

“This evidence. It’s all phenomena that I’ve either noticed, or had no way of knowing. And it’s all definitely pointing to something strange. There’s too many similarities between them all. Thank you for pointing this out. I’ll keep my eyes peeled, too.” He thought for a moment, hand on his chin, before asking, “When did these _shifts_ , if you will, occur?”

Sky tried to recall. He’d started noticing that Warriors was acting out of sorts after he woke up from his watch. And he’d seemed fine again… after… Sky’s watch. And that’s when he’d found Wind, too. It was… always on Sky’s watch. 

“ _It’s always on my watch._ ”

Four looked up at him, eyes narrowing calculatingly. 

“Thank you, Sky, for bringing this to my attention.” Four seemed… weirdly excited by the prospect. “I’ll be sure to get to the bottom of this.”

“Uh, thanks. If I notice anything else that’s weird, I’ll be sure to tell you.”

“Likewise.”

The group continued up the switchbacking trail, spending much of the day toiling up its steep sides. The lake sunk away below them, and with it, the blessed cool they had been enjoying. As the sun rose higher in the sky and they rose closer to the desert, the air grew hotter and dryer. 

They were very glad that Twilight had told them to get extra water. 

Sky ran his conversation with Four through his head as much as he could, along with his observations. Warriors had possibly tried to off himself. Wind had possibly tried to off himself, but something happened in that forest. While Sky hadn’t seen anything directly suicidal in Wild, the champion had been trying to pass on his items and skills. And he seemed so _downcast._ It was a definite possibility. And one that Sky wanted to avoid. While Sky couldn’t say for sure what Warriors’ intentions were in that battle, the Captain could have been seriously wounded _at best_ had Sky not intervened. He needed to be ready to take action again, if need be. 

Now that he thought about it, it was _really_ nice having Four backing him up. He didn’t have to focus quite so hard on keeping a close eye on everyone’s every move and could instead focus his efforts towards _actually helping them._ Yes, Sky was determined to make sure Wild didn’t fall too far into despair, or whatever it was.

Speaking of Wild, it looked like he was walking by himself. Maybe this was Sky’s chance to try and cheer him up. He started working his way towards Wild, trying to think about what to tell him. Did it even matter? Sky was taking watch that night, so anything could happen. If it really was tied to Sky’s watch, that is. It had happened three times already. There’s no way it was a coincidence, right? Even still, it was Sky’s job to keep Wild in one piece for the rest of the day and that was exactly what he intended to do. But he couldn’t help but wonder… was this somehow _because of_ Sky’s watch? Did it have to do with… no. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t related to the curse, was it? Was _this_ somehow Sky’s fault too? As if everything already wasn’t enough. Oh sweet Hylia.

It was Wild’s look at him that reminded him that the point of walking over here was to talk to the Champion and it was the look of concern on his face that caused Sky to realize that he was hyperventilating.

Oh. 

_Breathe. Remember the feather._

In, out. In, out. Up, down. Up, down. Nice and gentle. The feather rising and falling, smoothly, steadily. A deep purple, yellow stripes and white tips, drifting lightly on the wind. Smooth. Slow. There. There. 

Wild’s concerned glance turned questioning. Oh, right. Sky was going to talk to Wild.

“I… I wanted to talk to you about what you said while we were making dinner. There was something I think you wanted to say?”

“Hmm? Oh, it was nothing.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Wild paused. “Mhm.”

“Wild, you know you can tell me anything, right? Please, I just want to help.”

The Champion’s eyes grew downcast and Sky couldn’t quite tell if he was shaking his head or not. 

“Wild, I—” Sky sighed. “I still feel guilty about my failure with Zelda, even though it all turned out alright in the end”— _now that’s a lie_ —“so I can’t begin to imagine how you must be feeling. That doesn’t change the fact, though, that I’m here for you no matter what. Failing doesn’t make you a _failure_ . It makes you a human. Defeating the Calamity that day would have been impossible. Literally impossible. And you _came back and destroyed it_ . Anyone else would have stayed dead or given up, but you fought against all odds and _won. You_ , with no memory or past or obligation or responsibility, woke up and decided to save a kingdom you couldn’t even remember. It was all you. The determination, courage, compassion. All you, Wild. You’re… you are _amazing_ . I’ll never be half the hero you are. _You_ remember _that._ ”

“But I’ll never be able to actually make it right.”

“What? Why not? You defeated the Calamity, saved Zelda, now you get to rebuild the kingdom from the ground up, designing the perfect Hyrule.”

“No, Sky, that’s _your_ job. _You_ build it from the ground up. I’ll just have to hope that someday Zelda can restore a fraction of the kingdom that it used to be.”

“What do you mean, Wild? As long as you’re alive, there’s always hope that you can—”

“ _SHUT UP, SKY!_ Take a hint, will you? I _don’t_ want to talk about it. Now leave me the _f*ck_ alone before I set you on _fire_.”

Sky stopped walking, watching Wild storm ahead. What was _that_ all about? Sky hadn’t even been pressing him that hard, had he? Had Sky crossed a line without realizing it? _Hylia,_ how tactless could he _be!_ Wasn’t he supposed to be _good_ at this? All the feelings of helplessness from trying and failing to console Warriors came rushing back to him. But _no,_ something was going _on_ here. Maybe it wasn’t actually Sky’s fault. Maybe something was wrong with Wild. But shouldn’t Sky have been able to sense he was crossing a line? Shouldn’t he have noticed what was wrong with Wild? Whatever was happening, it was something bad and it was Sky’s fault. That was about all he had to go on anymore. 

They crested the ridge, the lake, in all her shimmering glory, fading away beneath them. Before them lay a vast expanse of sand, great cracks rending the desert into fragments and spirals of dust swirling across the landscape, scouring away any roughness and sanding every stone to a polish. The sun glared in their eyes, reflecting off the pale surface and causing all the Links to squint and squirm in discomfort.

“And welcome to Gerudo Desert, I guess. It’s honestly pretty miserable and it’s gonna be a long trek so I hope you guys like stupid word games.”

“Hey, my word games f*cking _slap!_ ”

“Wind, _how_ , exactly, was anyone supposed to guess ‘ _locomotive_ ’? What even _is_ that?”

“You’d know if _your_ Hyrule ever progressed past the _Stone Age,_ Pinky”

“ _What_ did you just call me?”

“Hey, Twi, what are those pillars over there?”

Four’s question managed to break Sky out of his thoughts, and he scanned the scenery properly, spotting a cluster of tall, important-looking golden towers looming in the distance, ornate crests adorning the top of each one. 

Twi grimaced as if he knew what Four was pointing to before he even had to look but turned his head that way anyway, a pained look in his eyes.

“That’s ah, our destination, actually. Arbiter’s Grounds. It’s not as close as it looks, though, the desert has a way of playing tricks on you. And there are these huge crevasses we need to avoid as well. It’s gonna be a rough journey, but we’ll make it.”

The group nodded, Legend and Wind pausing in their bickering to listen in. Twilight glanced into the west, squinting at the sun.

“It’s getting late and it was a rough climb. Let’s camp here and enjoy our last night on the grass. It’ll be warmer here anyway.”

They all nodded, beginning to unpack their bedrolls. Sky eyed Wild uncertainly. Should he ask to help with dinner again? Wild had seemed pretty upset with him and probably didn’t want anything to do with Sky. Would they ever cook together again? Had Sky blown his shot at getting close to Wild? What was he going to _do?_

“Hey, Sky, ready for me to teach you how to make a _mean_ risotto? I’d make my favorite meal, creamy heart soup, but we’re a little short on liquids at the moment.” He smiled sheepishly.

Sky’s vision snapped to Wild in disbelief.

“Are… are you not still mad at me?”

Wild’s face was pained, both from regret and from his poor attempt at hiding it. 

“What? No, it’s fine. Um… sorry I snapped at you.”

“No, don’t worry about it. Sorry I pressed you.”

They sat in awkward silence for a moment, Wild tapping at his Sheikah Slate.

“So!”

“So?”

“Risotto!”

“Right, yes, risotto.”

The two started on dinner, working in relative silence and trying to stay out of each other’s way. They finished making the risotto, not a moment too soon, and all the Links gathered around the campfire, enjoying the food and the camaraderie. 

“I want you all to know,” Wild started, pushing the food around his dish nervously, “that you’re like a family to me.” 

Sky and Four made eye contact.

“I’ve… I’ve never loved anyone the way I’ve loved you all. And I mean that. You’re all such amazing, kind, _heroic_ people. I’m proud to have the privilege of calling you my companions.” 

“Cub,” Twilight started, leaning into Wild’s side from where he was sitting next to him, “we _are_ your family. Now and forever.” He wrapped his arm around the Champion, squeezing reassuringly. Wild nodded, a deep sadness welling in his eyes.

“ _Thank you._ You don’t realize how much that means to me.”

“Well it’s true,” Time added, a fond smile growing across his face. “We’re a family. And nothing can change that.”

“You’d know, Old Man,” Warriors laughed. “You’re the dad.”

“No, he’s the grandfather! Twi’s the dad!” Wind corrected, smiling.

“And that makes Sky the mom,” Hyrule added, chuckling.

Sky sputtered, caught off-guard. Did that mean he was _married_ to Twilight?! But what about—wait this could be fun. Maybe it would even help cheer Wild up, at least a bit.

“Oh _dear!_ I’m so sorry, Twilight, but I’m afraid I have eyes for someone else!”

Twilight laughed, only a tad stiff. “But honey, what about our six children?”

Sky placed the back of his hand over his forehead, leaning dramatically over Four. “I’m sorry, honeybuns, but I can’t go on like this. I’m afraid I just don’t love you anymore.”

Twilight feigned a gasp, nearly falling backwards in fake shock. “Think of the children! However will they go on?”

“I’m sure we’ll manage,” Legend deadpanned. “It’s one less person who has to pretend to try to keep us in line.”

The group laughed at that, Time shaking his head softly in defeat. “Now you whippersnappers get off my property!” he shook his finger with faux-anger, “and take all your newfangled magic devices with you!”

Unable to hold it in any longer, they all descended into hysterics, cackling wildly, shouts of “encore!” breaking through the laughter.

Sky cracked an eye open, trying to catch a glimpse of Wild’s face.

Sky had never seen someone look so fond, but so sad.

* * *

They settled in for sleep, Hyrule perching himself on a nearby ridge and hugging his leg, resting his head on his knee. He’d have first watch, then Warriors, then Sky. There was no way Sky would be able to stay up all night to keep an eye on Wild, especially if the trek across the desert was as hard as Twi said. But what if something happened before his watch? He’d woken up to Wind being missing. What if Wild snuck away? But Hyrule was one of the most perceptive of all of them and Warriors was _vigilant_ . But granted, Wild was one of the stealthiest of them all. If Wind snuck out, surely Wild would be able to as well. But Sky _couldn’t_ stay up all night. He _had_ to be at the top of his game. Reluctantly, he let sleep take him.

* * *

“Hey, sleepyhead, your watch.”

Sky jolted awake, instantly alert and scanning for Wild. His eyes fell over Legend, sleeping peacefully with— _no, no it can’t be—_ the Sheikah Slate perched innocently atop his red tunic.

 _This was just like when Sky found the Wind Waker with his stuff, no, no not this again, where was Wild where was Wild where was he?_ Sky stumbled to his feet, hyperventilating and earning a very concerned look from Warriors, who placed his hand steadying on Sky’s shoulder.

“Sky. Look at me.”

_No! He couldn’t look at Warriors, where was Wild?!_

He frantically scanned the campsite once again, suddenly locking his gaze onto Wild’s empty sleeping bag.

No.

No.

NO.

_NO!_

This couldn’t—this wasn’t—what had Warriors been _doing?_ How could he have failed to notice that Wild was missing? _How?_

He turned to Warriors, grabbing his shoulders and staring into his eyes. The panic was suffocating. “ _Where’s Wild._ ”

“Sky, breathe.” He placed his hands over Sky’s own, exaggerating his breaths as if he expected him to follow along.

“ _Where. Is. He.”_

“Sky, he’s right over there. He rolled on top of Twilight in his sleep again. He’s fine.”

Sky looked, and sure enough, Wild lay sprawled over Twilight’s sleeping bag, abandoning his own. Warriors’ scarf had been carefully draped over their sleeping forms. They were safe.

Sky felt his throat open up in relief and a cascade of fresh air rushed into his lungs, clearing his head. He fell to one knee.

Warriors knelt down, a steadying hand now firmly on Sky’s back.

“The real question is, are _you_ okay?” 

Sky nodded, willing his throat to work again. “N-nightmare. ‘M fine now.”

Warriors nodded understandingly. “Do you want company?”

Sky shook his head. He’d need to find out who was next tonight. “Thanks, but I’m good now. Thanks for helping me calm down.”

Warriors smiled. “Anytime, Sky.”

After some steadying breaths, Sky sat down, trying to collect his thoughts. It was his watch, which meant that whatever was going on would shift to someone new. Was it really tied to his watch, or was it just a coincidence? They had three shifts a night, and there were nine Links, so the watch cycle reset… every three days. Sky felt all the tension rush out of his body with this realization. Was it _not_ actually his fault? Was it just chance, now locked into sync with the three day cycle of their watches? What was going on? It was even _stranger_ if it was three days. It was such an oddly specific and exact time frame for it to be pure chance. 

He scanned the campsite again, his eyes falling over the sleeping forms of Time, Twilight, Wild, Hyrule, Legend, Wind, and now Warriors settling into his bedroll. Who was he missing?

The realization hit him at the exact time he registered a flash of bright white light from the other side of the ridge separating their camp from the desert.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well that was some nice fluff. i sure hope it was seven chapters' worth.


	4. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welp.

Sky blinked away the residual spots drifting through his vision in the wake of the light. What  _ was _ that? He scanned the campsite again. Four was gone.

He wasted no time. After all, the last thing he needed was to be late.

Tossing the Master Sword over his back but leaving his sailcloth and chainmail by his bedroll—there was no  _ time _ for that—he sprinted for the ridge.

His heartbeat ricocheted through his head like cannon fire and his lungs felt like stiff, dry leather. Channeling every ounce of energy he could muster into his legs, he broke over the ridge, flashbacks to his mad dash for Wind flipping through his head.

From his elevated viewpoint, he could make out the vast expanse of desert looming ahead in the dusky light of the gibbous moon. Scattered dunes, boulders, and mesas provided more than enough cover for any manner of Very Not Good Things™ to occur.

Scanning the sandscape, his eyes landed on Four, casually stretching his arms over his head and sighing in relief and relaxation.

Sky remained on his perch, squinting at Four. He didn't spot the source of the light, nor did Four look perturbed by it at all. Four himself seemed completely normal, though he did appear to have changed tunics at some point, clad in what appeared to be green.

What was the light? Was it whatever had affected Warriors, Wind, and Wild? Had it already gotten to Four? Maybe Sky could figure out what was going on if he followed him. But Four was supposed to be working  _ with _ him on this, wasn't he? Somehow, Sky got the feeling that something was  _ up _ and that Four probably wouldn't tell him about it.

It was decided, then. Time to follow Four.

Grateful for the lack of dead leaves and twigs that may betray his presence, Sky crept along, eyes focused solely on Four. He was... normal. Unbearably so. Sky supposed he seemed a little more present and less lost in his own head than he normally did, but a nighttime stroll would do that to most people. Was Four just going on a walk to clear his head and deliberate on their companions' strange behavior? He didn't seem to be thinking very hard, more just...  _ being _ . He looked around at the scenery, stretched a lot, swung his sword a bit, and basically just seemed to be enjoying himself.

Sky yawned silently, stretching his jaw. Perhaps he should get back to watching the camp. That would probably be the responsible thing to do. As he turned to head back towards camp, he heard an audible gasp behind him.

Spinning back around, he scanned for any sign of danger. What he saw was not at all what he expected. Four was kneeling in front of a boulder, head in his hands. Stabbed into the boulder, was... Four's sword. Another one, apparently, as Sky could see Four's sitting by his side. And stabbed clean through by the sword was a piece of paper.

Sky squinted, unconsciously taking a few steps forward. Four looked... distressed, to say the least. Whatever was happening was  _ definitely _ bad and Sky wanted to know about it. Was it Four's 'turn' now? What did that even mean? Maybe this would be a clue as to what happened to everyone else, too. Decision made, he started jogging over, calling out to Four so as not to sneak up on him and startle him.

Four's head snapped up in response to Sky's shout. He spun around to face him, hands fiddling nervously behind his back.

"Sky! What are you doing here?" Four asked, scanning the area worriedly. Seemingly satisfied with what he saw, his focus returned to Sky.

"I was on watch and noticed you were gone so I came looking for you. Is everything okay? What's that paper?" Four chewed on his lip uncertainly, seemingly debating something with himself. He took a deep, steadying breath.

"I think it's a ransom note."

By now Sky had drawn within reading distance of the note and began scanning it. Four continued, clearly worried.

"Well, I mean I don't think it really qualifies as a ransom note considering it's not actually asking for anything. It's more of a... vague threat? Like—"

"Four." Sky looked at him. "Please calm down. I'm gonna read this, and then we can find out what's going on, okay? Take some deep breaths."

Four's face turned to one of understanding and focus, and he began taking deliberate breaths to try and calm himself. Sky turned his gaze to the note.

It was short, only a few words, scrawled with black ink onto parchment. The handwriting was scratchy, but otherwise not particularly noteworthy.

_ I have Vio _ , it read.  _ He'll be dead in three days. _

Sky felt his brow furrow and a bolt of fear and recognition strike him in the chest.  _ Three days. _ That was how long the cycles were lasting. It was always three days. Was everyone receiving notes like these? Wait, who the heck was Vio?

"Four? Who's Vio?"

A jolt of panic seemed to strike him, but he recovered quickly, looking to the ground. "He's... a close friend of mine. Really close."

Sky nodded understandingly. He couldn't imagine getting a note like this about his Zelda. Was that what had everyone acting so oddly? Cryptic notes that their loved ones were in danger? It didn't seem like the likely explanation. Sky would expect worry, constant fidgeting and pacing and spaciness, not the peculiar sadness and regret he's been seeing. Something was off here.

"But wait," Sky suddenly realized, head perking up, "we're not even in your Hyrule."

"Yeah," Four turned to him, fear clear on his face. "That's kind of what I'm worried about."

_ Oh. _ If Vio was in Four's Hyrule, then of course it was worrying. There wouldn't be anything they could do about it. It wasn't like they had control of where they ended up. And on top of that, Four was in a completely unfamiliar Hyrule. Even if Vio was here somewhere, Four wouldn't even know where to  _ start _ .

"But what do I  _ do _ ?" Four asked, staring at the ground. "What  _ can _ I do?"

Sky scanned the note again. It was short, to the point, emotionless. No taunting, no gloating, no hints, no requests. It  _ wasn't _ a ransom note because it didn't  _ ask _ for anything. There was no trade or challenge. Simply a fact. But then why wait three days before killing Vio? Why not just pin his corpse to the boulder instead? What was the  _ point _ ?

His vision returned to Four, still kneeling on the ground. He squatted down by the green-clad smithy's side, placing a firm, hopefully comforting, hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, we'll figure it out. I'm sure it's all gonna be okay. We've got some of Hyrule's greatest heroes on our side." He smiled what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I don't think there's anything we can't do."

Four nodded slowly, reluctantly.

Sky scanned the steadily lightening horizon, glancing back towards the direction of camp. "Let's head back."

But, to Sky's surprise, Four shook his head. He pulled himself to his feet and placed his hand on the sword jammed into the rock, stroking it almost reverently.

"I'd like to stay here a bit longer. Collect my thoughts. Get started on breakfast. I'll be there before you're done."

Sky could  _ feel _ the sympathy that must have welled up in his eyes.

"Y-yeah. Take all the time you need."

Sky made his way back across the loose, shifting sand. This was going to be a  _ pain _ to walk across. For how many days did Twilight say? He didn't specify, but by Sky's estimations, he'd say a week at the very least, definitely more if they had to work around the bottomless crevasses spiderwebbing across the landscape. Perhaps two weeks, then. He reached the ridge just as the sun began to peak above the distant desert. After giving the campsite a once-over and determining that nothing was on fire, he made his way down, crouching by Wild's sleeping bag. If Sky's observations held any water at all, then according to the pattern, Wild should wake up, completely fine and seemingly oblivious to the fact that he'd been acting oddly at all.

But that only begged more questions. Was it transferring to one person to the other? That would make the most sense, but what about what happened to Four? It was at the end of Wild's three-day stretch, and it was going to last three days as well. It lined up far too perfectly to be a coincidence. Was whoever was responsible for that note somehow also responsible for what was happening to his companions? Was there a  _ who _ involved in all this? If so, a kidnapping seemed... an odd choice. It was such a deviation from the pattern that Sky honestly wasn't sure what to make of it.

Sky tapped Wild gently on the shoulder. The Champion woke easily, rubbing his eyes and stretching dramatically.

"Hey, Wild, how are you feeling?"

"Pretty good! You?"

Sky looked to the side, trying to decide how much to say.

Wild leaned into his field of vision, concern clear on his face. "Hey, is everything okay? You have a nightmare?"

Sky shook his head. "I wish. It's probably best to wait until everyone's up so we only have to explain it once."

Wild nodded, extracting himself from his sleeping bag. "Let's keep it simple today, then. How about some simple fried eggs and rice?"

"Yeah, that sounds good."

The camp stirred to life with the sizzling of the cooking pan, Four at some point returning to camp, though Sky didn't notice exactly when. He'd clearly been at the camp for a bit, considering he'd found time to change into his usual tunic. Actually, no, it wasn't quite his actual tunic. It was still the four-colored one, but the embroidery on the bottom-right panel, the purple one, was gone. That was odd. Maybe he could ask Legend to fix it for him; The veteran was scarily good at mending clothes—which made sense the more Sky thought about it. He'd been through countless adventures and dungeons, so his clothes were bound to get ripped with frequency.

By the time the group had congregated around the fire and had started eating breakfast, Wild was clearly impatient.

"So," he leaned closer from where he sat next to Sky, "you wanna say what's up?"

Sky sighed, letting his shoulders fall. He should really talk to Four about this first, shouldn't he. Making a motion that he hoped conveyed the sentiment of  _ one second _ , he made his way over to Four.

"I think we should tell the group about what you found last night. That way we can put our heads together and formulate a rescue plan." Four looked up at Sky, tentative hope and a deep  _ aching _ sorrow reflected in his hazel eyes. Sky could have sworn Four's eyes were purple the other day, but he was too distracted by the sheer  _ emotion _ in them to question it.

Sky decided he should probably spare Four as much talking as possible.

He stood, clearing his throat, and the group's attention gradually zeroed in on him.

"So, ah, last night, Four and I found this note"—oh, right, Four still had it—"pinned to a boulder."

Four laid the note on the ground in front of him. Warriors read it aloud.

All was silent for a moment, save for Wind's "oh, sh*t."

"Who's Vio?" Hyrule asked, cocking his head.

"A good friend of Four's. Does anyone know a way we can find him?"

"Is he even in this Hyrule?" Legend leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "I mean, we have no control over which world we're in. Would it even be possible to get to him in time?"

Four spoke up for the first time that day. His voice cracked painfully as he did. "He's here. I know it."

There was a general acceptance of that, only Warriors adding a curious " _ here _ as in this Hyrule or this area? Do you have an approximate idea?"

Four seemed to shrink in on himself,  _ Hylia _ , he looked so scared. Not out of his wits, though, there was still a spark of determination in there somewhere, but still. It was easy to forget how young he was. He wasn't Wind's age, but slumped down like this, with emotion showing so clearly on his face, he looked it. Vio really must mean a lot to him.

"I... I don't know for sure, but I-I don't think he'd be very far."

Warriors nodded, Legend bristling a little at that. "Can your  _ Vio detection senses _ be a  _ little _ more specific? Like, I know we all have our secrets, but if you can be as specific as possible, that ups our chances of finding him."

Abject horror shone in Four's eyes for a moment before he looked off to the side. "I don't  _ know _ ."

Twilight thought for a moment. "If you had something with his scent on it, I could try and get Wolfie to track it. I don't mind a detour at all. Besides, this is important."

Four looked like he was trying to get the ground to swallow him up and it looked like if he tried any harder than he already was, he might actually manage to.

"I... don't have anything that might smell like him."

"How about that sword you found with the note?"

The smithy bit his lip, visibly collected himself, and went over to his sleeping bag, grabbing two near-identical swords. He laid them down by the fire, gesturing to them as he spoke. "We're uh... really close. Y'know how much I like to make weapons and all, yeah? We thought matching swords would be pretty neat. This one's definitely his, but it probably won't smell like him anymore. I had it with my stuff last night."

Twilight smiled. "You'd be surprised how well a scent can cling to an object."

"But," Legend pointed out, "if Vio was never here, or if there was teleporting of any sort involved, I doubt your wolf would have much luck following the trail."

Twilight wilted a little. "You have a point."

Sky mentally ran though his options as the group continued to discuss possibilities. Beetle? No. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how few items he really had. It wasn't anywhere near the huge collections other heroes had, or even the insane variety that Twilight boasted. What he did have that set him apart, though, was the Master Sword at its finest, untouched by evil or age. He could dowse. That didn't require a trail at all, only a signature and a target. But... could he even do that without Fi?

Sky jogged back to his bedroll, scooping up the Master Sword and gripping her firmly, concentrating as best he could. He felt the warm, familiar presence of the holy energy inside, but any trace of Fi's consciousness was gone. But it wasn't her consciousness that dowsed, was it? Her power was directly responsible for it as an ability, but her power was the power of the sword, which he still had. Perhaps…

He jogged back over, sword in hand. "Hey Four, can I see Vio's sword?"

Four wordlessly handed the blade to Sky, who took it and laid it carefully at the ground. He pointed the Master Sword at it and  _ pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease _ he focused all of his energy through the blade. Fi's spirit was still in there, though it was asleep. But he just needed her power, the power of the sword, and that was one he could harness without a problem. If he just tried to fill whatever role Fi herself had played, he might be able to bypass her and dowse using only the sword. It was worth a shot.

He took deep breaths as if he were imagining the feather, but instead of a feather, it was a soft purple light at the tip of the sword that grew and shrank with every breath. If he just focused on channeling that energy through the sword and at whatever he could glean from this sword here, maybe he could try and see if he felt a similar tug in any other direction. Was that how this worked?  _ Hylia _ , he missed Fi.

After a moment, he did feel something, a slight... wavering. A residual rippling clinging to the sword. It tugged very slightly at the tip of his blade. And when he tried to point the Master Sword just slightly off to the side, he felt the faintest of pulls back.

_ Was this actually going to work? _

Still focusing on his breathing, he carefully brought the sword tip away from Vio's blade, drawing it carefully across the landscape, eyes half-lidded. He just needed to focus on that  _ tugging _ . He just needed to feel it again. Turning slowly, smoothly, he managed to turn approximately three-quarters of the way around before—wait  _ could it be? _ The slightest of tugs, like a fingernail catching on the tiniest of splinters in a piece of wood. He tried to pull the sword in another direction ever so slightly, but it resisted minutely. This had to be it. Wherever Sky was pointing, that had to be where Vio was.

He opened his eyes.

There, directly at the tip of his blade, were the six shimmering silvery towers catching the morning glow. Arbiter's grounds.

"Um, Sky? What are you doing?"

Approximately seven pairs of eyes followed Hyrule's, landing on Sky's outstretched blade.

"It's called dowsing. I can use this special signature to locate an object or a person. It like... tugs on the blade of the Master Sword. It's hard to explain. But there's definitely something at Arbiter's Grounds with the same signature as Vio's sword."

Four shot up excitedly, hope shimmering in his eyes, causing a definite shift in the group's energy.

"It checks out, too," Warriors mused, "we're heading that way because of reports of a powerful enemy over there. Who else would have not only the motivation, but the ability to kidnap someone from another Hyrule? Especially someone close to us."

Sky dimly recalled Twilight's description of the place. A haunted prison that once held Ganondorf himself? He shivered and decided not to mention it. Four didn't need to be burdened with any more worry. What Sky  _ did _ think was important to bring up, though, was his estimation that it would take a lot longer than three days to get there. He looked to Twilight and  _ oh _ , the anxiousness and helplessness on his face was  _ heartbreaking _ .

"Twi?" Sky started cautiously. The Links zeroed their attention in on the response that was to follow.

Twilight slumped, fidgeting with the black crystal around his neck. "It takes two weeks to get to Arbiter's Grounds from here."

No one spoke a word.

"I'm sorry, Four, I—"

"Don't act like we already lost!" He jumped to his feet, hands fisted. "We know where he is! Besides, we're the most powerful heroes in all of Hyrule's history! Between the nine of us, I'm sure there's some way to get there in time! We've wasted enough of it already. We should get moving."

The rest of the heroes exchanged glances. "Four, how—"

"Grit, ingenuity, and courage. That's all we've ever had to rely on, and it's  _ worked _ . We have our destination. What are we waiting for? This is what we  _ do _ ! We help people. And we do it out of the blue, with no warning, and with nothing more than the clothes on our backs and a sword we found somewhere along the way. Why should we stop now? Why falter now? My-my  _ friend _ is going to be... is going to be... we need to do something and we need to do it now. We're the most qualified people in the world for this task. So what are we waiting for? Let's move out!"

All eyes turned to Twilight. He worried his lip with his teeth and scanned the desert, eyes lingering on the gleaming pillars in the distance.

"I... I suppose we could try it, but—we'd need to figure out away across these huge cracks that criss-cross the desert. Normally we'd have to go around, but if we cut over them, we could definitely save ourselves some time."

"Alright, you heard the man," Warriors called, standing up and brushing himself off. "Let's strike the camp and be out of here in three minutes. Hop to!"

"Hey, where's my Sheikah Slate?" Wild glanced around, bedroll in hand.

Sky scanned the camp for Legend, who was stuffing a bunch of items into his bag, the Sheikah Slate among them. He pointed, and Wild looked over, bewilderment clear on his face. He stalked over and picked it up, eyeing Legend mistrustfully.

"What? It was with  _ my _ stuff when I woke up."

Wild squinted at him, holding it close to his chest and backing away, pointing two fingers at his eyes and then swinging them to face Legend. Legend rolled his eyes and went back to packing.

Did Wild not put the slate with Legend's things? Then how did it get there?

"Chop chop!" Warriors called, bag already packed.

They complied, and were on the move within minutes, Time setting a solid, quick clip. The others followed behind, boots sliding through the loose sand and dust accumulating on their... everywhere actually. Sky pulled off his sailcloth and wrapped it around his head in a futile attempt to stay in the shade. The sun beat down overhead like the fire-breath of a Lizalfos and Sky had to squint against the wind and the sun. Speaking of Wind, the sailor had to stop every few minutes to dump the scalding sand out of his shoes before Wild took pity on him and lent him a pair of special boots consisting of cloth wraps and leather cords. Wind took three steps in them before proclaiming that Wild was his favorite human in the history of the universe and he'd never play a prank on him again.

The resulting mirth and knowing laughter was short-lived as the group approached a massive crack in the ground. And when Sky said massive, he meant mind-bogglingly  _ huge _ . It extended deep into the recesses of the earth, fading into blackness with such intensity that Sky feared that anyone unfortunate enough to fall in may very well die of starvation before they hit the bottom. It was long, too, stretching as far as the eye could see in one direction, and until the cliff by the lake in the other. The fastest way would be over it, but it was as wide as the sealed grounds were across.

How on earth did Four expect them to get across  _ this _ ?

Time insisted the group keep away from the crack—they had no idea how stable it was around the edges and sand was not exactly known for its sturdiness—but Wild insisted on inching closer, scoping out the distance.

A few moments passed in which every Link visibly reviewed everything they'd ever done or ever owned and inspected the opposite cliffside for any familiar markings. Sky scanned the area. He had his double clawshots, but he didn't see any peahats for miles around. And even if he could use his sailcloth to glide like Wind and Wild could, he'd still drop too much before hitting the opposite edge. A scan of his companions' faces revealed that they weren't having much luck either, except for Legend, who was still thinking. Sky figured he'd be at it for a while.

Wild seemed to have an epiphany, though, and pulled out his Sheikah Slate. After looking through it, he looked like he reached a decision and nodded. "If we had some large, loose object, like a boulder or a log, I could stasis it and whack it a bunch, which would launch it into the air. I could shuttle people across that way."

Twilight nodded, thinking. "Yeah, but there isn't anything like that around here for miles. Nothing but sand." Wind piped up. "I could harden sand into like pillars and stuff, but they only last a few seconds and I doubt they'd be very stable." A chorus of shaking heads confirmed his doubts.

Wild licked his lips, tapping his foot excitedly. "I bet, if we used like fire rods or fire arrows or something, we could melt the sand into glass. If we get enough of it, I bet we could—" He was silenced by a " _ Yes! Finally! _ " from Legend, which was followed by a promising-looking red cane-shaped item being extracted from his bag. 

"The Cane of Somaria!" he called, holding it triumphantly in the air.

"The who of the what?"

"The Cane of Somaria," he repeated, giving it an experimental swipe. Before him, a shimmering block of what looked like  _ amber _ appeared, nestling itself comfortably in the sand. It looked like a five foot cube and, by the way Legend leaned against it smugly, was rather sturdy as well.

Wild walked over to it in awe, rapping the surface experimentally with his knuckles.

He smiled.

"Yes, I think this will do nicely."

Wild whipped out his slate, pointing it at the block excitedly before Time stopped him with a hand.

"So, Legend, what are the exact properties of this block?"

Legend smirked. "Pretty indestructible, if I do say so myself, but I can only make one at a time. Shoving this one off the cliff should get rid of it just fine, though." Time nodded, gesturing for Wild to continue.

"So who's going first?" Wild scanned the group.

"I'll do it," Wind said, puffing out his chest. "I've been launched out of a cannon before, and if I change the wind direction and use my leaf, I can glide across the rest of the way if Wild miscalculates. He'll launch it in an arc, right? That'll give me ample altitude to lose before I get to the other side."

Literally everyone opened their mouths to object, but Wind cut them all off by spinning his Wind Waker between his fingers and bouncing it up, left, right. Just like that, the slight, hot breeze turned strong, whipping through the desert and over the chasm, launching a waterfall of sand into its depths.

Undeterred by the miniature sandstorm, Wind leapt onto the block and crouched, his Deku Leaf clutched in his left hand. Bracing himself in place, he nodded to Wild. Wild, after glancing around at the others for a moment, took a deep steadying breath.

"Are you ready?" He looked Wind firmly in the eyes. Wind stared back, determination blazing.

"Hell yeah. Let's do this."

Seemingly comforted by that response, Wild pulled out a club before Time stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, handing him the Biggoron Sword instead.

"Let's conserve resources."

Wild nodded, handling the blade with care, and planting himself firmly in front of the cube. Wind crouched down further, pressing himself flat against its surface. Legend held the cane in his hands, squeezing imperceptibly.

There  _ must _ be something Sky could do to help! They could get Wind across using the block-stasis method and had the leaf for backup. An extra failsafe would be welcome, though. What if Wind were to fall? He thought for a moment before he was hit with an epiphany.

_ The double clawshot! _ He could use them to catch Wind if he ended up falling. He grabbed them from his pouch and fastened them onto his hands, taking a firm stance a little ways from the edge of the canyon. Twilight spotted him and nodded, taking his place next to him and pulling out his own pair of double clawshots. This might actually work.

The unfamiliar chime of stasis rang out across the area, the block turning a bright, otherworldly, greenish-yellow hue. Wild began spinning, the Biggoron Sword held out with both hands and every time it struck the cube, a  _ ping _ rang out, growing louder and louder as Wild span faster and faster. Sky could  _ feel _ the tension and pressure that that cube was under. Then, just as it seemed like it was going to burst, Wild abruptly stopped, whipping out a bow and firing a single arrow, catching it as it ricocheted off the block. He stepped back and watched as, with a sound like shattering glass, the block  _ fired _ into the air, Wind clinging to its surface.

It was about two-thirds of the way across when Wind's small form seemingly lost its grip on the block, the projectile continuing forward and leaving Wind tumbling in the air.

_ Sweet Hylia, did we just kill Wind? _

For one heart-stopping moment, he seemed to drop like a stone before the familiar green shape of the Deku Leaf appeared above his head, small particles of green flickering off of it. The block, on the other hand,  _ smashed _ into the earth, an explosion of sand billowing around it and burying it halfway underground. Wind was swept across the gorge with a particularly powerful gust and, when adequately positioned above the sand a safe distance from the edge, let go with one hand, dropping to the ground and elegantly rolling to break his fall. He stood up, jumping up and down in what was probably an "I'm okay!"

He paused for a moment and the rest of the group was collectively scared out of their wits by the screaming that was suddenly coming from Wild's general direction. Looking down at his slate, he saw Wind's face, smiling like a madman with a head of hair swept by the wind and  _ full _ of sand.

"Wild, that was absolutely  _ NUTS!! _ Chill with the power next time! I could barely keep my grip!"

Wild grimaced, lowering his head apologetically. "Got it."

Before the Links could all take a collective sigh of relief, Four was already standing in front of Legend with a face of icy determination.

"My turn. Let's go."

Legend backed up a little, raising his hands placatingly. "Hey I can only make one at a time. Wind has to get rid of that one first."

Four's head snapped to the other side of the canyon, horror clear on his face. Sky looked across the chasm and realized Four's exact thought process. How on  _ earth _ was Wind supposed to get that block into the pit? It was practically buried under the ground. Sky didn't know if his gust bellows would be enough to clear away that much sand.

But, Sky thought with a smile, Four suffered from the common ailment that many of his other companions shared: Underestimating How Fricken  _ Metal _ Wind is Syndrome.

He watched as Wind, knowing his role, rushed over to the block and pulled out a strange, propeller or fan-like device and blew into it, a steady stream of wind rushing around the block, excavating it. At least partially. Once it was satisfactorily unburied, he pulled out some rod-staff-wand-cane-thing (was there really a difference?) and a pillar of sand rose up from beneath the block, holding it high in the air. He positioned himself below it, and, as the pillar crumbled,  _ caught _ the block in his hands, holding it clearly over his head. Then he just  _ tossed _ it into the canyon like it was nothing, clapping the sand off his hands and dusting off his tunic. Sky didn't need the Sheikah Slate to know that he was sending them a cheeky thumbs-up.

Legend, laughing proudly, waved the cane, creating another block. Four climbed on top, wrapping a blue and white cape around his shoulders and gripping the front edge as firmly as he could. He nodded and Wild sucked in a breath, applying stasis again and this time hitting it significantly less. The lock broke and the block shot forward, though not nearly as quickly as it had for Wind. In fact, it was so much slower, that it lost its momentum three quarters of the way across and began to drop.  _ Rapidly. _ As it did, Four leapt into the air, cape billowing behind him, and kicked the block downwards, providing an extra upwards boost. Then, the cape seemed to fill with air like Sky's sailcloth and it carried him smoothly—and quickly, thanks to Wind's... well,  _ wind _ —to the other side where he landed with a flourish.

One thumbs-up later, a new block appeared and Sky figured he might as well go next. They didn't have anyone with a clawshot on that side and Sky wanted to be able to catch someone if need be. So, after kicking his foot against the block to propel himself up, he settled down on the cube of suspiciously familiar amber—it felt  _ just _ like that crystal that Zelda had been sealed in and that was...  _ eerie _ —and held on tight, praying to Hylia that he'd make it across alright. The melodic chime of stasis rang out, Sky using every ounce of grip strength in his body to secure his hands to the corners, and, with a few more hits than last time, Sky's whole world suddenly  _ lurched _ forwards. He  _ barreled _ through the air, wind tearing at his hair, when he felt a worrying shift in his stomach. Wild had added a few more hits to compensate for Four's drop in altitude, but did he also account for Sky's added weight? He felt a sickening lightness, his heart simultaneously sinking and rising, and Sky  _ knew _ , from all his time spent flying with his Loftwing, that they were going down.

Sky scanned the opposite cliffside and evaluated his own position. If he used his sailcloth, there was a chance that he could glide across in time like Wind and Four had done, but he was a lot heavier than they were and also not quite as high above the edge of the cliff as they had been. He wasn't going to make it with his sailcloth.

He almost brought his fingers to his mouth, lips already pursed to whistle, before he remembered where he was. His Loftwing wasn't going to come for him. Nobody was. He rose into a crouch, slipping one clawshot onto each hand. He had two shots at this. Two shots before he plunged into the depths of the abyss. With one final prayer to Hylia, he leapt off the block, just as Four had done, but, he was eye-level with Four and Wind. No, gliding wouldn't have been the right option. Sky hoped that this alternative was somehow better. From where he was, he could see in painful clarity the shock on Wind's face as he began to reach for his bag and the  _ horror _ and  _ guilt _ on Four's face as he stood, frozen in shock. Sky sharpened his gaze into something that he hope conveyed his message— _ catch me _ —and, twisting in midair, launched one clawshot forward, somewhere between Wind and Four, but closer to Wind. He did still have his power bracelets on, after all. The claw buried itself in the ground and began to slide through the sand, finding no purchase.

Sky tensed as that split-second of stillness passed and he began to fall, heavy and graceless and  _ fast _ . He was familiar with falling. He did it every time he wanted to ride his Loftwing. Falling was comfortable. He had learned to wait for the  _ catch _ that always came, be it a Loftwing or a sailcloth or Zelda or a clawshot. He always got caught. Always. He just needed patience. Soon, he'd feel that  _ tug _ and Wind would begin to heave him up the cliffside. Right? The chain suddenly went completely slack and the glimmering golden talons of his clawshot appeared over the edge of the canyon. It was dark, now, Sky having passed into the shadow of the cliffside. It was far cooler down here. A blissful respite from the searing heat.

Sky continued to fall.

In a last-ditch bid for  _ survival _ , he fired off his left clawshot.

The golden talons shot into the air like a beacon of hope, firing straight up and— _ yes _ —catching the wind and getting blown towards the cliff.

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ I don't want to die. _

_ I wish I had told everyone how much I loved them. _

_ I know I did, but it wasn't enough. _

_ It can never be enough. _

_ I just wish I could have given the Master Sword to someone who was actually worthy. _

And there, a sudden  _ yank _ that nearly tore his arm from his socket, halting his downward trajectory instantly and leaving him dangling on the knife's edge between life and death. He hung there, by one arm that was already throbbing and quickly going numb, and felt the chain gradually reel in, foot by foot, pulling him up. Sand sprinkled in his face, lodging itself in his eyes and hair as the chain slid across the ground, but he didn't care. He just hung. Hung as he was carried into the light. Yes, out of the cool, dark shade and into the blinding, searing sunlight.

Soon, he reached the edge, face now positively  _ full _ of sand as he was dragged onto the ground a little ways from the cliff by two pair of strong, shaking hands.

They rolled him onto his back, Four still clutching the claw with one braceleted hand and Wind leaning over him, peering into his eyes with a curious, terrified expression.

Sky coughed.

Wind slumped over in relief and Four looked about ready to pass out. Through Wind's pendant, he could hear the sighs of relief and shouts of joy. They actually seemed pretty happy that Sky was alive. That... probably should have been a little less surprising than it was. But anyway, Sky was now firmly planted on solid ground and he had  _ no _ intention of moving anytime soon, thank you very much.

He was vaguely aware of Warriors, Twilight, Hyrule, and Time crossing over, but wasn't really paying attention. No, his focus was centered on Four, who built a small shade by draping Sky's sailcloth over some swords he'd stabbed into the sand—which was odd because that was bad for the blade and Four should  _ know _ that, unless he was too focused on Sky to care—and was gently petting Sky's hair, threading his fingers through it and trying to pick out all the grains of sand. Sky looked at him questioningly, but received only a distant, guilty look in response. Four didn't think this was  _ his _ fault, did he? It was clearly Sky's. Four did nothing wrong. The poor kid, he was going through so much. Sky hoped he'd be able to help him. Luckily he could focus all his attention on helping comfort Four because—no, actually. Four was the one he'd asked to help him investigate. He was  _ not _ in investigating condition. He'd been emotional, snappish, and fiercely determined ever since they'd found that note. It was like he'd completely lost his cool.

Sky was torn from his thoughts by a vague commotion and sat up to investigate, Four helping him. Oh. How were Wild and Legend supposed to get across? They'd need to both go at the same time, but there wasn't enough room on the block for two people. And Wild would have to smack it with stasis  _ extra _ hard and  _ then _ jump on. There was no way this was going to end well.

But, Sky found himself thoroughly surprised by the sudden appearance of the block being immediately followed by a flash of purple light, Wild clearly staggering backwards in shock. And, sliding across the surface of the cube was what looked like a  _ drawing _ ? Of  _ Legend _ ?

Did Legend just turn into a  _ painting _ ?

Honestly, at this point Sky was less surprised by Legend's ability to literally turn into a painting and more surprised by the fact that he was surprised by that at all.

Wild gave it hefty number of hits, spinning wildly with the Biggoron Sword outstretched before hurriedly climbing on and moving around to the front, clinging to its surface. After a moment in which the whole world held its breath, the two shot off into the air, zipping overhead like a bomb launched from the Groosenator. The block planted itself firmly in the sand on the other side, half-buried, with Wild hopping off and gliding down to the ground. Wind rushed over to Legend, using his sand-controlling-device—Sky had forgotten to ask what it was called—to raise Legend's block into the air, giving the Hero ample room in which to extract himself from the surface of the block, brushing himself off with a grin.

Wild wasted no time after he landed, rushing over to Sky and sliding onto his knees, grabbing Sky’s hand and pressing it against his own forehead.

“Sky, I am so,  _ so _ sorry. I... I—”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, I’m fine,” Sky smiled, pulling his hand away from Wild’s face and placing his free hand onto his shoulder comfortingly. “I’m safe, I’m okay. Just breathe.”

Wild obliged, taking deeper and deeper breaths before continuing.

" _ Sky. _ "

"Yes?"

"I almost  _ killed _ you."

Sky smiled, squeezing Wild's shoulder reassuringly. "Wild, you just performed one of the most ridiculous and improbable move that this world has ever seen. Successfully.  _ Eight times in a row. _ Think about how impressive that is. You took a magical cube you've never seen  _ in your life _ —and I mean that. You know nothing about this thing. Not how it behaves, not how heavy it is, not anything—and you successfully froze it in time, whacked it with a sword that  _ you've never even touched before _ while people of varying heights and weights climbed on and got launched across a canyon you've  _ never seen before _ . And somehow, with all these variables and everything to lose, you did it near-perfectly. You're  _ amazing _ , Wild. I mean that.  _ Absolutely Stunning _ ."

"But—"

"Oh, shut up and let me give you a hug," he said, not waiting for a response and wrapping Wild up in his arms. The blond rested his head in the crook of Sky's neck, still hot and sandy, and the two embraced in the small, awkward shade of Four's makeshift lean-to. Actually, speaking of Four—

"And you get in here, too, Four. You two both deserve hugs."

While Wild melted into Sky's grip, accepting the affection gratefully, Four seemed, not melty and comfortably like Wild, but just... limp.  _ Hylia _ , Sky was worried about him. He said he'd lost his friend, but it honestly seemed more like he'd lost a part of  _ himself _ .

He pulled out of the hug too quickly, instead jogging over to Time and asking how long until they could set off again and asking Twilight how much time they'd saved.

"In a few minutes, Four, I think everyone could use a break right now."

"We shaved off about a day."

" _ What? _ Only a  _ day? _ "

"Yeah. There are a few more cracks like this. They aren't as wide, though, so with just our basic jumping and gliding items, we should be able to get across just fine and only need to do this trick for a few people."

" _ What?! _ "

"Four. This is a two-week journey and you're trying to shorten it to three days. That's not exactly an easy thing to do."

He looked around, frantic. "But, but surely there's a way to teleport or something! I mean, like half of us can do it one way or another, isn't there some sort of shortcut or trick or something? Surely you don't have to cross this  _ every time _ you need to get there, right?"

"Four," Twilight started, using a voice that Sky could see him using to comfort a scared goat, "if fast travel was an option, we would have done it back in Hyrule Field. Every teleport system requires portals at your destination and there  _ aren't any _ in this world." He was firm about that. Very firm, but also so very sad. Like he knew it very well but wished he didn't.

Only a few minutes later, they were back on their feet and racing across the desert once more. Well, racing was a strong word. They were racing against the clock, but it felt more like they were slogging through mud, every step sliding back and causing more and more sand to sift into every nook and cranny of their boots, making them crunch with every step. The sun only grew hotter but their pace never slowed. Lunch wasn't even a respite from the grueling forced march as Four insisted it would take too long. They ate rations from Wild's slate as they walked. But with every step they took, their energy and morale fell. The shimmering pillars of Arbiter's Grounds only seemed to shrink farther and farther into the distance, the barren expanse of desert only growing longer and longer. The cliffs surrounding their destination wavered like reflections in a lake, like a mirage in the sky. Sky felt every breath grow rougher and rougher, the taste of sand creeping into his mouth. His lungs felt like they were shrinking, unable to take in as much air as they should. His breathing sped up to compensate. It wasn't until he couldn't see Twilight walking in front of him anymore that he realized his vision was spotty and that his head ached. Was it his breathing problem again or was he dehydrated? Every time one of his feet touched the ground, he felt the  _ burning _ desire to just stop and  _ breathe _ but he couldn't because just  _ one more step, then you can take a break _ . But the break never came. Not for lunch nor for water. They ate and drank as they walked, and Sky's head only grew fuzzier and fuzzier. Was he slowing down? was he going to be the reason they couldn't make it to Arbiter's Grounds in time? He redoubled his pace, staggering forward blindly. His feet slipped and slid in the sand and the location of  _ forward _ began to elude him.

No, he  _ had _ to press on. There wasn't any other option. But Sky knew just as well as the rest of them that it was physically impossible for them to get there in time. It was a  _ two week journey, dammit _ , they couldn't just magically shave it down to a fifth of the time by  _ believing in themselves _ . Sky hated to think it, but it was hopeless. It was only the first day, but it was abundantly clear that this was a fruitless endeavor.

They all knew it and it showed.

The real question was how long would it take for someone to say it.

Sky tried to turn his brain off and sink into his imagination, letting his legs do the walking without him needing to pay attention. He tried to recite all the words to the Ballad of the Goddess, but that just made him miss Zelda and Skyloft and  _ oh, Hylia, think about something else _ . But he was jarred out his thoughts by a steadying hand on the small of his back, guiding him forward. He snapped his head back to see Time, standing over him, armor slung over his back, gently holding him upright and moving him forward. Sky quickened his pace a little, trying to focus on the form of Twilight in front of him, but he found himself back with Time again, being gently guided along. At some point Time handed him a waterskin that he accepted greedily, but his lungs never stopped feeling like thick, heavy leather.

The sun began to sink lower in the sky, still scalding hot until it dipped behind the distant spire of Hyrule Castle, just barely visible behind the Great Bridge of Hylia's silhouette. 

As if by magic, the second the sun passed out of view, a chill swept over the desert, causing the Links to collectively shiver. Sky glanced back at Time imploringly. They usually stopped walking in the mid to late afternoon, but had continued on until sundown in their rush to reach Arbiter’s Grounds. Hylia, when were they going to stop? There was no way they would just keep marching straight through the night, would they? 

“Time, it’s getting late. Should we make camp for the night? It’s after sundown.”

Time scanned the horizon ahead, one eye narrowed analytically. 

“That may be wise.” He turned to the rest of the group, “what do you all think? Camp here for the night?”

A chorus of relieved sighs rang out from every Link but one.

“What are you doing?! We can’t stop now! It’s just starting to cool down! Walking will keep us warm! We  _ have to _ keep going!”

“Four, I know you’re worried about your friend. But look at us. There’s no way we can continue on in this shape.”

“Are you for  _ f*cking real?! _ When the fate of the whole world is at stake, you’ll all suffer through anything— _ alone _ —and push yourselves to the brink of death to save it. But when the life of  _ my whole world _ is at stake and all of the strongest heroes in history are gathered together, you want to  _ take a nap?! _ We’re  _ better than this! _ Have you all gotten  _ soft?!  _ _ How dare you call yourselves heroes?! _ ”

Worried glances flickered across the camp. His  _ whole world? _ Did this Vio character really mean that much to Four? Sky tried to imagine himself in Four’s situation. If  _ his Zelda, _ oh  _ Hylia _ , no wonder Four was so worked up. If Sky were in his position, of  _ course _ he’d freak out.

“Guys, I think Four has a point.”

“Sky, has the desert heat been getting to you? There’s no way we can travel like this.”

He sucked in a breath, steeling himself. “That’s easy for us to say. But imagine if it wasn’t Vio in Arbiter’s Grounds. Imagine if it was Zelda or Malon or someone close to  _ you. _ Would his behavior  _ really _ be so absurd then?”

Warriors opened his mouth, then closed it. Legend stared off to the side and Hyrule fiddled with the edge of his tunic. Time nodded gravely, Wild following suit. Twilight completely deflated.

“Sky’s not wrong.”

“I’ll whip up a quick stash of travel rations while you all change into warmer clothes. You’ll  _ need _ it.”

“I’ll help.”

Wild nodded to Sky, the two crouching down by the fire— _ how did he make that so fast _ —and began pumping out meat, mushroom, and vegetable skewers.

At some point, Sky’s consciousness slipped into autopilot and he came to on the road once again, sailcloth wrapped securely around his shoulders.

The pace was steady, but not too ambitious. They were no strangers to travel, the others. Sky wiggled his toes, feeling the stinging ache of blisters on his feet. Himself, not so much. None of the floating islands were large enough to require any actual stamina to walk across and to get anywhere else, he’d just ride his Loftwing. Even once he was on the Surface and had to walk more than he ever had in his whole life, it was still a  _ fraction _ of the size of anyone else’s Hyrule.

What was this? Another thing Sky was way worse at then he should be? Fascinating. Add it to the list. 

Distantly, he mourned the death of any sort of peace of mind he had managed to cobble together when they were back at Lake Hylia. Now, there was no shortage of time in which to get lost in his own head.

Sky’s head, he decided, was not a very fun place to get lost.

The light drained from the edges of the sky and the stars began to peek out from their burrows, nestled in the inky blackness. 

Sky’s legs threatened mutiny. Sky tried to pretend they didn’t exist. With every step, his boots sunk into the sand, thousands of flecks of dust streaming down the sides of the dunes. 

It looked so soft. Sky could just imagine himself lying curled up in it, the malleable terrain conforming to his sleeping figure, his legs finally at rest, the aching draining away.

It was all around them, too. If he just missed one step, he’d go tumbling into the soft sand and he could lie there forever. All he’d have to do was trip. He could manage that.

_ But what if it was Zelda? _

But it  _ wasn’t _ Zelda. Zelda was safe and sound back in Skyloft. She was  _ fine _ and they were just out here dragging themselves on a forced murder march through a  _ wasteland _ for someone they didn’t even  _ know.  _ If this Vio person was  _ so  _ important, why had Sky  _ literally never heard of him before? _ Why wouldn’t Four  _ explain _ who the hell he even was!

All he had to do was lose his footing on the loose, unstable sand and it would be over. He’d be done.

He was still walking.  _ Why was he still walking _ . He could just  _ stop literally any time he wanted to, now. _

But he didn’t.

Because on his journey he had thought many, many times, while barely escaping quicksand or lava or murderous beasts or bottomless pits,  _ what would happen if I just stopped? _

And the answer was always the same.

_ How dare you. _

How dare you even  _ consider  _ such a thing when Zelda was out there putting her  _ life _ on the line to perform her duty. What was the alternative? Go to Skyloft? Sit back in his room? Live a life without her? A life in which she fell to darkness and Ghirahim unleashed Demise on the world?

_ No. _

He never let himself think like that. Never.

_ How dare he. _

All these other heroes had suffered so much  _ worse  _ and had to carry  _ so much more, _ physically and emotionally. He had it the easiest, didn’t he. A reasonable age, trained as a knight, able to return home at will, the servant of the goddess by his side? How dare he give up while everyone else fought and bled and cried and  _ died _ for what they believe in.

Sky wouldn’t let himself be the weakest Link.

He’d stop after the first person collapsed. Whoever that may be.

The passing time became a blur.

The scenery never changed, the pillars of Arbiter’s Grounds looming tauntingly in the distance like a mirage. Sky’s concept of time began to smear, like a wet watercolor piece suddenly held up on an angle, he no longer felt a way to place himself in it. Was he moving through time or was it moving through him? How long had it been since dinner? How long had his last train of thought lasted? What  _ was _ his last train of thought?

Sky’s eyelids began to slip shut.

_ No. _

They slid open wearily.

_ How dare you. _

At some point, Time must have decided it was time to take a break. Sky vaguely remembered Four’s unconscious body in his arms. 

Sky fell to the ground and let sleep overtake him as the first vestiges of light began to flicker at the periphery of the sky.

He was shaken awake. Violently.

He tried to blink the blurry sheen from his eyes, but it wouldn’t leave, no amount of rubbing or squinting clearing his vision.

“ _ Stay awake this time  _ because I  _ swear _ , if I have to wake you up  _ one more time _ —”

The sun was just lingering at the edge of the horizon. Had he slept the whole day away?  _ Oh no, Four would kill him— _

“Four, are you  _ insane? _ It’s only been like three hours!”

It wasn’t…  _ was it the same morning? _

_ Sweet Hylia. _

“It’s been  _ three hours too long _ if you ask me! What are we waiting for?!”

“Four. We stopped because  _ you passed out. _ ”

“Well I’m awake now, so let’s hop to! We have to finish crossing this desert! Twilight, how long until the next gorge?”

“Um… a few hours? Depends on the pace? I honestly can’t tell you.”

“Then let’s find out!”

“Four,  _ please _ .”

“ _ You wouldn’t be stopping me if this were Malon! _ ”

Time’s eye hardened, his shoulders stiff.

“I understand that your friend is important to you, Four, but do you want all of your other friends to  _ die _ out here because of him?”

Four stared up at the looming figure of Time, eyes narrowed in a furious challenge.

“Fine. You know what?  _ Fine.  _ I’m going on ahead. You all can sit back and relax here. I’m going to go save someone’s  _ life. _ ”

From somewhere to Sky’s left, Legend rubbed his eyes.

“If anyone wants me to tie him up now so we can get some rest, lemme know.”

Warriors frowned. “The last thing we need out here is in-fighting.”

“Well I _hate_ _to break it to you,_ but I think it’s a _little late for that, genius._ ”

“Well then, what do you suggest,  _ O Wise Hero?” _

“He wants to leave so bad? Let him. I don’t see why we should all break our necks over this.”

“Legend… you don’t mean that, do you?”

Legend looked at Hyrule. “Why wouldn’t I?” But his harsh gaze softened ever so slightly.

“You see? You wouldn’t say that if  _ Hyrule _ was the one who wanted to keep walking.”

“Well, Hyrule actually  _ interacts _ with the group! What does Four spend all his time doing?! He’s always off sulking in the woods by himself! If he actually  _ deigned _ to spend any actual  _ time  _ with us, then maybe I’d be more apt to help him!”

“So you’re playing favorites now!”

“ _ WE DON’T EVEN KNOW WHO THIS VIO GUY IS! _ Until Four can sit down and tell us who exactly we’re even trying to  _ save, _ then maybe I’d actually consider helping!”

“Well he can’t exactly explain it from all the way over there!”

“Holy sh*t, he actually straight up left.”

“But Wild has all the food.”

“That’s… is he—?”

“You don’t mean...”

Sky felt his heart stop for a moment, before tearing back to life at double speed, sending shivers wracking through his body.

“It’s a suicide mission.”

“F*ck.”

“What do we  _ do? _ ”

“I don’t agree with this stupid scheme, but I don’t want Four dead. Not really. I don’t mean what I said. We should go with him.”

“Legend’s right. The fact of the matter is that we stand a much better chance out here if we’re together. Let’s go after him.”

The day was a blur.

But there was one nagging feeling that Sky couldn’t let go of.

Twilight had said they should reach the gorge in a few hours, depending on their pace.

The sun was tracking awfully close to the horizon.

There was no canyon in sight.

There was no way they had veered off course. The pillars above Arbiter’s Grounds were a constant beacon, their destination painfully visible. 

That only left their speed.

Were they travelling  _ so slowly _ that what should have taken a few hours was taking a full day? Should they have stopped longer? 

Sky was beginning to suspect that nobody was trying to make it to Arbiter’s Grounds anymore. They just didn’t want to leave Four alone.

Somehow, that opened a deep, writing, hollow pit inside Sky. As if his very soul was somehow darkened, tainted. He wanted nothing more than to just  _ cough it up _ in that moment. Why was that realization so horrifying? Why did it make what little strength he had left in his legs crumple and waver? Why did it make his head swim? He  _ knew _ they weren’t going to make it to Arbiter’s Grounds. He figured that out from the start.

Maybe it was the dawning realization that this information also meant that  _ Vio was dead. _

And there was nothing they could do about that.

With the way Four was acting now…

Oh  _ no. _

Sky resolved to keep a very close watch on him in the coming days.

Speaking of coming days, it was looking like this day was nearly over. 

The great black wound that gouged the desert sands could be seen looming ahead. Sky let his gaze fall to Four’s staggering form.

Four was always the most level-headed and analytical of them all. Surely he should  _ know _ that they couldn’t make it. That his insistence was only slowing them down further. That it was  _ hopeless _ . Did he know? Did he  _ care? _ Was he just staggering onward because he didn’t know what else to do with himself? Were they making a mistake by indulging him? Did it matter either way?

Who  _ was _ Vio to make Four self-destruct so  _ thoroughly _ at the mere  _ prospect _ of his loss? Sky would normally consider trying to ask him, but the mere prospect of holding a conversation, let alone  _ opening his mouth to speak _ was far too daunting for his addled, dehydrated, exhausted, overheated mind. 

Eventually, it got darker and then Sky found his face in a pile of sand and then he ate something and drank something and then it was lighter and then Sky was walking and nothing made any sense anymore it was just things happening and then very little happening for a very long time other than walking. At some point, they reached the gorge that Twilight had mentioned.

How were they supposed to get across? They had some  _ very near misses _ and  _ very close calls _ when they were all reasonably well-rested and had good reflexes. Now? There was no way they’d be able to pull off the stasis launch like this.

“Alright, Legend, get the block!”

Sky watched as Legend’s eyes fell over the forms of his exhausted companions who had taken the opportunity to sit down, namely all of them except for Four.

“Four, there’s no way we can handle that in this state.” 

Tactfully ignoring Four’s frustrated—or was that agonized?—groan of distress, Legend paced the edge of the gorge, occasionally crouching, with eyes trained on the other side.

“Although…” Four’s eyes shot to Legend, “we might not need it. Wind, earlier you were able to create a platform out of sand, right?” a bleary nod. “Well, so can I. If you change the wind direction again, we might be able to stack them and create a sand tower. Then, we could use our, uh, various glidey-thingies to get across.”

“Not all of us can glide, though. We’d need a way to shuttle the gliders back and forth.”

Time had a point. Sky thought through his meager inventory, wishing he could be  _ helpful _ .

_ You  _ are _ being helpful. You have your sailcloth. _

But that wouldn’t be of much use if they couldn’t get anyone else across. If only he had a small, flying device that could carry objects… 

_ Oh. _

Pulling his Beetle from his pouch and fastening the golden mount to his wrist, the gold and teal metal insect perched securely on top, Sky unfastened the brooch on his sailcloth. He’d upgraded the Beetle so it could carry actual items and have a longer range so if he could just—

Balling up the sailcloth— _ sorry, Zelda _ —he stuffed it in between the pincers of the device. Aiming it at the sky above the group, he launched it, the beetle jolting forward before puttering through the air, sailcloth firmly in its grip.

“Now  _ that _ is a toy I’d like to get my hands on. And you can control it?”

Sky only nodded, the Beetle returning to his wrist.

“Can it reach across?”

“P-probably,”— _ Hylia _ , his voice was hoarse—“but I doubt it could make it there and back.”

“I guess you’re first, then.”

He nodded, pocketing the Beetle and shaking out his sailcloth.

“Wind?”

“On it.”

The shimmering baton bounced in his hand, a hearty gust sweeping across the canyon in a rush. 

“How’s your sand rod work?”

“Sand  _ wand _ . I can make the sand rise into pillars about one and a half me’s tall basically wherever I want. They stay there for four seconds before crumbling back into sand again.”

Legend nodded, thinking. “Mine last a little longer than that, but I can only make them in a straight line in front of me. And they’re about as tall as yours. Can you lift  _ yourself _ on a sand pillar?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. Stand next to Sky. We only have a few seconds.”

The two nodded, standing shoulder to shoulder. Legend procured an item that appeared to be a golden sun on a small rod and he thrusted it skyward, a wall of sand rising up and stretching a little ways past them. They were lifted into the air,Wind, grabbing Sky’s arm for balance with his right hand. With his other, he pulled out an odd-looking golden relic of his own and swiped it, the pair rising further into the air. From such a height and with the wind billowing comfortingly at his back, he didn’t doubt that he could cross the chasm.

“Alright,  _ go! _ ”

Sky leapt. His boots left the sand and he was airborne, his sailcloth billowing open above him and the wind spurring him onwards. He dropped slightly faster than he would have liked, but luckily for him, he had a lot of altitude to lose. The great, black, gaping maw beneath him was slowly overtaken by the approaching sands and before he knew it, he’d touched down on the other side.

Why hadn’t they done this the first time?! Sky had almost  _ died! _ Granted, the gap was considerably larger and the other side wasn’t lower like it was here. But still. That was actually pretty easy and painless.

After eyeing the gorge mistrustfully, he tied his sailcloth around one of the Beetle’s pincers, not wanting to risk it falling. 

Aiming for the waving Legend who was holding—was that a  _ bug net?  _ Sky shot it forward, listening as the faint ticking grew quieter and quieter. Would it make it? The small golden shape, glinting in the midday sun, shrunk smaller and smaller until a call of  _ I got it  _ caused Sky to slump in relief. The others made their way across similarly, the process greatly expedited by Wild and Four using their paraglider and roc’s cape respectively to cross while Sky sent his sailcloth back. Four, somehow, through the exhaustion showing clearly on his face and in his shoulders, had enough energy to fiddle with his hands, clearly impatient. Finally, it was just Wind and Legend. From across the chasm, Sky could see them shoot up on a pillar of sand, timing long since perfected, and begin gliding across the gap together, Wind on his deku leaf and Legend borrowing Sky’s sailcloth— _ Legend _ borrowing an item from  _ Sky? _ He never thought he’d see the day.

The second Legend and Wind touched down—Wind landing first and being uncharacteristically quiet about it—Four let out a  _ finally _ and began marching towards the gleaming pillars that still hung in the sky, taunting, jeering, like the moon resting on the horizon, impossible to reach but  _ right there _ .

Looks were exchanged, some resigned, some pleading, all exhausted.

This wasn’t news to any of them. They  _ knew _ they weren’t going to be able to make it in time. Hell, they were hardly even trying anymore. But standing here, with the towers looming ahead, the stone architecture of what looked to be the rest of the building beginning to peak above the rocks it was nestled in, the sun angling more and more towards the horizon, the distance felt suffocating. Distant mountains shimmered like ghosts behind the temple and rich, red mesas poked through the sand like mushrooms.

Sky spotted a few chains drilled into some of the landforms, dilapidated wooden blockades lying forgotten near the rusted, dangling metal. 

This was not a very nice place to be at all.

Luckily for them, Four was the one keeping pace. He was the most tired of all of them—Sky figured it was the added emotional turmoil of Vio’s impending death—and he had the shortest legs. The group wasn’t rushing along quite as fast as they had been the past two days, but the speed didn’t matter anymore. Sky just wanted to  _ stop moving. _

They didn’t.

The sun sunk down, acidic crimson light splashing over the contours of the windswept stones, the burning glow belying the icy chill of the night. The world began its transition into slumber, but not the Links, never the Links.

They kept marching on.

The moon, a semicircle beginning to wear away on the inside, crept higher and higher.

A stiff wind raked across the dunes.

Sometime, when the moon was nearing its highest and Sky’s eyes were only open about half the time he was walking, he was brutally shredded out of his fuzzy trance by an ear-splitting shriek of pure  _ agony. _

It was the word no.

The Links froze.

Four crumpled to the ground.

“He’s gone. He’s gone.”

There wasn’t anyone left standing after that statement. Whether via exhaustion or grief, every hero fell to his knees.

It was done.

* * *

Somehow, Sky ended up bundled in his sailcloth, staring blankly at the horizon. He felt like he should be actually paying attention to watch, but he honestly couldn’t tell if he was awake or asleep. When he noticed a rustling behind him, he couldn’t tell if it woke him up or just jarred him from his thoughts.

It was Four. 

The blade of his sword glimmered like glass in the meager moonlight.

He staggered, the tip of his sword dragging next to him in the sand, leaving a small, wavering line in its surface.

He passed behind a mesa and didn’t come out the other side.

Something was  _ wrong. _

Sky knew that something happened when afflicted Links left the group on the last night of their… whatever it was. But this was  _ different. _ This had a clear, definite cause. This couldn’t just  _ vanish _ with the rising sun. Something was going to go down that wasn’t just a simple nighttime walk.

So Sky followed.

And as he turned his head around the corner, his legs protesting every movement, his knees refusing to bend without a great deal of effort and agony, he spotted the small, broken form of Four, pointing his glimmering, silver blade at… another person. Who… ?

That person was pointing their sword at… another person who was pointing his own at Four? What was happening here? Who were the others— _ Hylia, they looked just like him, which one was Four?  _

He rushed out, legs wavering and crumbling and buckling and every step was like acid running down his thighs but he  _ had to get to them _ .

He had to yell something, to say something, to get them to  _ stop this madness _ but his voice was gone with his breath and he was coughing in the dry desert air and  _ Hylia was he going to pass out no not here not now Four needs me and I can’t—I need to be there, I— I—  _

One breath. One breath would be all it would take to get his attention. Just one shout, one—

“ _ Four! _ ”

The forms froze. Three identical heads snapping towards him in shock, diamond sharp tips of three identical swords all pointed at each other’s hearts, shaking furiously, arms barely remaining outstretched. From the close proximity and the moonlight, he could now see that they were wearing different colors: one red, one green, one blue.

He’d run into someone who looked just like Four wearing all green a few days ago. Was that… this person?  _ What was going on? _

None of them lowered their blades, the weapons like twigs in a hurricane. They looked as if they were about to fall off, but they stayed close,  _ far too close  _ to their targets.

At last, Sky reached them, falling to his knees mere feet from where they stood, tears streaming down their faces and a deep, pained,  _ hollowness _ in each of their eyes. Their chests heaved and their painful, wheezing breaths were like thunder in his ears.

What should Sky  _ do? _ Would a sudden motion from him startle them into hurting each other? Would he even be able to speak? Were any of them hostile? Were any of them actually Four?

He didn’t know nearly enough about anyone to start a fight. He just needed to deescalate.

But he wasn’t in a  _ place  _ for that. His chest shuddered and heaved and spasmed and ached as he fought for any scrap of air he could claw into his lungs. He was laying here, practically paralyzed on the ground, unable to move or speak out of sheer  _ exhaustion _ , watching as he didn’t even know  _ what _ was taking place, but the sight of Four’s sword—and yes, that was undoubtedly his—pointing at a chest attached to, yes, that was  _ Four’s face,  _ had hot, shuddering tears sliding down his own cheeks as well. 

“ _ P… lease. _ ”

Somehow, that single, breathless moan from Sky was enough for three identical swords to crash to the ground in a pile, their wielders crumbling to the sand, silhouetted on the faintly lightening horizon.

The red one fell to the side, open sobbing and choking on his own breath. The blue one smashed his forearms into the sand and  _ screamed _ . The green one began to hyperventilate, his lungs sounding like they were about to tear open like fabric.

And from where Sky lay crumpled on the ground, there was nothing he could do.

He wasn’t sure what happened next, if he slipped out of consciousness from lack of sleep or lightheadedness or  _ what _ but some quantity of time passed—or perhaps none at all—before he heard a quiet, shuddering—

“D-did I ever t- tell you why I… why I called myself Four?”

He didn’t wait for a reply.

“It’s because I… I have an… I don’t know if ability is the right word, but it’s—I can ah… well… I  _ am  _ f-four. Well, I w-w—I—”

Sky remained silent for a moment as the green one, who had been speaking, began sobbing uncontrollably, the scenery becoming imperceptibly more visible with every passing second.

The blue one continued, voice raspy and hoarse.

“Four was one whole person, once, but the—the Four Sword, it, it split him into… into four. Four pieces if you will. It gave us each bodies, but we could merge into the one human you know as Four. And… and, well—”

“Vio i—w-was—the fourth.”

…

And what could Sky even  _ think _ in response to that?  _ Oh _ didn’t cut it, not by a long shot.

“Sh*t.”

He wanted nothing more than to pull himself to his knees, to take this poor, broken child and hold him tight.

But instead, Sky remained on the ground, his muscles no longer  _ physically capable _ of moving him anymore.

“ _ Please _ ,” he managed to gasp out, his eyes flitting between the broken, lost, agonized gazes of the three pleadingly, “ _ stay _ .”

“ _ How? HOW are we supposed to go on without him!?  _ When he died,  _ we _ died. _ Four is dead, Sky. _ ”

“No, no you’re right here. You can survive this. You can heal. You can—”

“You know  _ NOTHING! _ You have _ NO IDEA _ how it feels to have your soul  _ ripped apart _ and  _ KILLED, Sky!” _

“Blue. Maybe… maybe he’s right.”

“ _ How could you SAY THAT! _ ”

“Because it’s  _ not just us anymore! _ ” the red one’s eyes were marbled from the welling tears that shimmered in the faint glow of the dawning day. “We’re part of a team now, Blue. One… bigger than us. We—”

“ _ WHAT EVEN ARE WE ANYMORE?! _ ”

The green one’s eyes filled with compassion and sympathy. He placed his hand on the blue one’s arm.

“We’re the smithy. We’re the Hero of the Four Sword and the Hero of Men. We’re still human.”

The blue one slumped, his strength leaving him and he fell to the sand like a ragdoll.

“Let’s merge. The sun’s coming up.”

“Green…”

The green one wordlessly reached for his weapon, and Sky felt his heart race as the red one did likewise, placing the third in the blue one’s hand. But instead, they touched the tips together and in a flash of light, they were one, Four in his multicolored tunic laying facedown in the sand, only a few feet from Sky.

He managed to whistle, hopefully loud enough to draw someone near, and then it all went black.

  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Hour of the Setting Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh dear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First day of school is tomorrow >dabbing crying meme<  
> I'll try my best to get to rest of this fic out as quickly as possible, but it's just so long! XD
> 
> HOLY HECK HOW ARE LIKE 20K WORDS IT'S ONLY ONE CHAPTER
> 
> they're getting progressively longer and there's like four left holy heck i'm so scared for my future self's sanity

Sky’s eyes drifted open, the blinding afternoon sunlight leaving him squinting and blinking. What happened? Was Four—

_Four._

Sky shot up with a start, every muscle in his body protesting his movements. _Hylia_ , his core was so sore, he felt _sick._ But no, he couldn’t sit back down, not until he’d lain eyes upon Four.

“Woah there.”

Sky felt a steadying palm on his back, holding him upright. Though Sky’s hazy, sleep-addled vision, he could make out Time’s one eye filled with concern and caring.

How was Four? Where was he? What had happened? Was he okay? Did Sky manage to stop him? Was it enough? 

“F… our?”

A gauntleted hand appeared in front of him and he followed it, an outstretched finger pointing to the sleeping form of the smallest hero.

Thank Hylia.

“Do you want to tell me about what happened between you two last night? We found you both passed out a little ways from camp.”

Did he? Four’s three days were up, so would everything go back to normal? No, no _way_ . He’d lost _Vio_ . A part of his very _self_ . And he hadn’t taken it well, to say the least. If this was what had happened to Four, what had happened to _Warriors, Wind, and Wild_ ? They seemed okay afterwards, but were they actually just putting up an act? It wasn’t like everyone else was secretly split into four parts like whatever had happened to Four. Was Four just _different_ ? _Why?_ And what was the _point_ of all of this?

He no longer doubted that some _one_ was responsible for this. They’d kidnapped Vio. It had been perfectly in sync with the three-day rotation thus far. But now what?

Now _who?_

Oh, hell, was there going to be a new person? Was it going to switch? What was going to happen to Four? 

_Who was it now?_

He rubbed his eyes hurriedly and snapped his gaze to Time’s own, staring desperately into his face, searching.

The Old Man looked surprised, confused, and worried, but there was no trace of the deep mourning he’d seen in Wild, or the distracted refusal to make eye contact he’d seen in Warriors and Wind, the latter only looking him in the face when he said something with _urgency_. 

But no, Time looked, well, exactly as he always did.

Not him, then.

That left Hyrule, Legend, Twilight, and—oh, hell.

What about _him?_

What if it happened to _him?_

Was it happening to him _now_ ? Was _he_ the afflicted one? What did that even _mean_ ? He had a feeling he should know _something_ —the others definitely knew more than they were letting on when they were… affected—but how much did he even really know about any of this? Warriors had been reckless? Boastful? Possibly suicidal? Wind had been pretty similar, but also _kinder_ somehow. Wild had fallen into a sinking, silent depression. Four was panic-fraught and nearly hysterical. They were all so _different_. 

How was _Sky_ feeling _?_

That was… irrelevant. He had something he needed to get to the bottom of. Everything else could go on hold. He needed answers. Was anyone else acting clearly out of sorts?

Hyrule seemed relatively fine—tired, of course, they all were—but aside from that, he looked, well, subdued. He was chatting with Wild by the fire. Was he helping with dinner? Surely Wild knew better than to let him anywhere _near_ the cooking pot. Their conversation was muted, though, far less energetic than it would have been. The two of them were undoubtedly some of the strongest walkers in the group, so it was only natural that they’d recover fastest, but it was still clear that there was something dampening their spirits.

Yeah.

Even though Four had stopped egging them forwards on a fruitless forced march and they didn’t know the details of who Vio actually was, the feeling of failure, of _trying everything_ yet still being _utterly helpless_ was one that did not mix well with the Hero’s Spirit.

Sky knew.

And he knew the others did, too.

But how was Sky supposed to tell who was acting out of sorts when all of them were feeling especially useless and guilty?

What was Legend up to?

Scanning the campsite again, he spotted a lone figure, back to the crowd, hunched over something or other. Its arm moved in rhythmic motions, sliding up and down in a straight line. Sky was abundantly familiar with those movements. Legend was cleaning his blade. That was… normal. For Legend, anyway. He generally liked his alone time, right? Only ever really socializing with Hyrule and the occasional Twilight, barring that one time Wild taught Legend how to use his Sheikah Slate.

That _was_ right, right? _Hylia,_ Sky didn’t keep track of everyone’s _social schedules!_

One thing he knew for sure, though, was that he hadn’t spent nearly enough time with Legend. 

Considering how things had been going so far, he wasn’t sure how many more chances he’d have. 

So, with his mission in mind, he snapped back to reality, ready to go talk to Legend.

“Sky? Have you been drinking enough water?”

What?

_Oh._

Time had asked him a question. A while ago. 

What was it again?

“Yeah, don’t worry about me.”

“Hate to break it to you, but I _am_ worrying.”

“You? Worry? Are _you_ dehydrated?”

Time smiled fondly, chuckling.

“I may not always show it the best, but you boys are my world. We’ve all been through… a lot these past few days. Just make sure to take care of yourself.”

Sky nodded absently. Sure, that’s all anyone ever seemed to say. What did _take care of yourself_ even _mean_ ? Sky had other people to take care of. It was now definitely life or death. No, his _self-care_ could wait. This was _important_ . But there was no way to make Time understand that. He cared too much about Sky. Sky was _fine._ Time should be worrying about the others. Namely _whoever was next_. He had to talk to Legend.

The Old Man saved him the trouble of trying to come up with an excuse to leave by standing up himself, brushing sand from his tunic and heading over to the stirring form of Wind, who was asleep nearby.

Painfully, like an old man himself, Sky pulled himself to his feet, everything aching. If Legend was cleaning his sword, maybe Sky should as well. After all, the sand couldn’t be good for her. Besides, the Master Sword seemed to be of particular interest to Wind and Warriors. Maybe he could use it like a bait, to see if anyone else took a _peculiar_ interest in it. 

And so Sky went, only slightly limping across the campsite—he hoped—and standing next to Legend, he blue-capped hero sitting cross-legged in the sand and staring into the distance with half-lidded eyes, his polishing cloth absently sliding down the blade as if he had long forgotten that he was even cleaning it.

“May I sit?”

Legend tensed for a moment before nodding, his hand stilling on his sword.

Sky plopped down beside Legend and sat in silence for a moment, suddenly realizing he had no idea what to say.

“How… are you holding up?”

Legend sighed, more of a frustrated huff than anything, and let his blade fall and rest in his lap. The hot, gentle breeze caused his bangs to drift slightly as he spoke.

“It just… stings.”

“Yeah. It does.”

“I just… I’m trying to understand _why._ Why leave a note if they didn’t want anything from us? Why tell us at all? Why weren’t we attacked _once_ while spending three days rushing through the desert like madmen? It just doesn’t add up.”

Sky nodded. It _was_ worrying. They were being manipulated, somehow, emotionally, behind the scenes and _nobody seemed to notice_ . Now Four had been utterly _destroyed_ and they were still just as in the dark as they had been.

But no, his earlier convictions still swelled inside him. He was going to get to the bottom of this. If Four wouldn’t be able to help him, maybe he should tell Legend about his discoveries and observations. Maybe—

His heartbeat pounded in his ears. 

The world slowed to a crawl, the tufts of hair sprouting from Legend’s hat freezing in their swaying.

_Why had Four been different?_

He’d _told_ Four.

He’d asked him for help.

He’d explained everything.

And Four had been utterly—

Was it _Sky’s_ fault?

Was this some sick joke? Some _game_ to make him suffer as much as possible?

He couldn’t tell Legend. He couldn’t risk it. 

But his earlier fears about being targeted rushed back.

If whoever was after them had gone after Vio, and subsequently Four, because Sky had told him too much, then, well—

 _Why hadn’t they gone after Sky instead_?

Was he somehow _special?_ What could he possibly do that made him somehow more of a challenge to take down than Four, the composed smithy whose bladework was just as sharp as his mind?

He didn’t have any special charms or rings or magic or experience, all he really had, aside from a few tricks, was the Ma—

The Master Sword.

And it made _sense,_ too, _Hylia, why did it have to make sense._ Warriors and Wind had wanted to touch it, to try it.

Maybe it was a sort of desperate attempt to dispel whatever curse had been plaguing them. 

_Dammit,_ every time he thought he figured something out, he only ended up with more questions!

And guilt. More guilt, too. He was willing to bet that by the end of this—whatever _this_ was— it would turn out to all be his fault. Somehow. Hell, it probably already was, what with him being responsible for all of them even being heroes that were _needed_ because there was _evil_ and—

Sky sighed. 

He didn’t think he used to swear so much—though Wind would probably laugh in his face if he said it aloud, but Sky had always tried to be, well, good?

Like that was going well.

“How about you? What are your thoughts on all of this?”

_You can’t tell him._

“I dunno, I guess I haven’t really been paying attention. It is weird, but I don’t really know what else we can do besides just continuing on.”

Sky’s eyes fell over the Master Sword in Legend’s hands. It had been recharged and recharged and tempered and forged so many times it was nearly unrecognizable save for the purple hilt and iconic triforce emblem.

Would it really be able to protect him?

And with Four largely out of commission, Legend had been stepping up as the brains of the group, helping orchestrate their more creative canyon crossings.

They couldn’t afford to lose him, too.

“Yeah,” he added, suddenly filled with the desire to _protect Legend from this._ To keep him safe from this knowledge that could, well, tear him to pieces. “There’s nothing we can really do. We should focus on taking care of ourselves.”

“I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything else from you,” Legend exhaled strongly through his nose. “Head in the clouds but still always looking out for others. You’re a good man, Sky. I have a feeling we’ll be needing you to hold us all together. We both know that some of us are going to take this _hard_. We’re lucky to have you.”

Sky nodded. “I’m sure we’ll get through this.”

He had no idea how confident he sounded, or even was.

 _Dammit, he was supposed to be checking to see if Legend was okay or not_.

He _seemed_ pretty normal. Sure, he was downtrodden, but who _wouldn’t_ be? He was probably still in shock, trying to make sense of it all. Sky certainly was.

But no, no major warning signs from him, either. On to Twilight, he supposed. 

Pulling himself to his feet and shaking the loose grains of sand from his tunic—the Master Sword still unpolished in his hand—he turned to face the camp to Legend’s back. Twilight… wasn’t there. 

Scanning the area, he spotted a silhouette seated atop a small mesa. Characteristic fur cropped up around the neck area and a very simple hilt could be seen peeking over his shoulder.

Twilight.

Picking his way through the sand, he eventually made his way to the base of the stone formation, which was about as high as he was tall. Luckily, it wasn’t too hard for him to kick against the rock and push himself upwards, grabbing the ledge and pulling himself to the top.

Twilight didn’t stir, staring into the distant sun with one knee pulled up to his chest and the other dangling beneath him, kicking idly against the rock and sending pebbles skittering down its sides. He rested his chin on his knee, arms wrapped loosely around his shin, and the now-evening wind rustled his hair, sweeping it into his face.

“... Hey, Twilight.” He tried to let it slide out easily, casually, but had a feeling it wasn’t particularly convincing.

Silence.

“You seemed kinda lonely up here. You doing okay?”

“He’s dead.”

A beat.

“There was nothing we could have done, Twilight. We tried to make a two week journey into a three day one. We did _everything we could_. You said yourself that there’s no easy way across this desert.”

“No. Not now. Not anymore. But there _could have been_.” 

Twi pushed himself to his feet, frustrated, turning his back to Sky, who twisted around to look at him.

“What? What do you mean?”

“There _was_ a portal to Arbiter’s Grounds! There _was!_ But it’s _gone_ and now Vio’s _dead_ and Four—”

Sky rose to his feet as well, arm outstretched to try and touch him on the shoulder, to offer what little comfort he could muster.

“Twilight, this isn’t your fault. You’re not the one who killed him.”

Twilight spun around, smacking Sky’s hand away, angry.

“ _Aren’t_ I, though? If I had just been _good enough_ then _none of this would have happened!_ ”

And something inside Sky _snapped._

 _“YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW HOW THAT FEELS?_ YOU THINK I DON’T _HATE_ MYSELF FOR EVERYTHING I’VE DONE?!”

“ _Please_ , you have _everything_ you could ever want! Your childhood friend is now your _perfect, wonderful girlfriend_ and you get to go on to found the _glorious kingdom of Hyrule_ and you get to fly around on your big, beautiful bird all day long. You haven’t had to _work yourself to the bone_ rushing to every corner of the kingdom in a desperate attempt to push back the darkness that has _consumed your home_ and every _second_ you waste, it comes creeping back again. You haven’t had to fight with an underground resistance to try and take back your kingdom that has been _overthrown_ . Your Zelda never tried to _kill_ you while under the possession of Ganondorf. Hell, you don’t even know who he _is!_ Your lovely village children were never kidnapped and traumatized so much that they couldn’t even _remember you_ . So don’t you f*cking try to tell me that you have it _bad_.”

Twilight’s eyes were burning with fury and _hurt_ and there was a sort of—was hollowness the word?—to them. 

_Hylia_ , when was the last time Twilight had _slept_?

“Twilight? Can you please try to calm down a little?”

“Calm down?! Easy for _you_ to say! All you’ve ever _known_ is _calm_ . Why aren’t you _upset_ about Vio? He’s _dead_ , Sky. We _failed_ to save him. Four is _broken_ over it. But of course you don’t care. The only thing _you_ care about is your perfect, beautiful _girlfriend_.” He spat the word like an insult.

It was becoming abundantly clear that Sky had found who he was looking for. Twilight was _scary_ like this, but he was saying things about his adventure that he hadn’t ever said before. Was he more likely to explain what was _happening_ to him if he was like this?

“Twilight! Please, this isn’t like you. What’s going on?”

“Of _course_ you wouldn’t understand. Why am I even bothering to talk to you?”

Sky sucked in a panicked breath

“Wait, Twilight, _please_ , don’t bottle it all up. Talk to me. I just want to help.”

“ _Haven’t you done enough?_ ”

Sky froze.

He didn’t move when Twilight made his way to the edge of the mesa and he didn’t move when Twilight jumped down and planted his feet in the sand and walked away and he didn’t move when the sun began to creep beneath the horizon and he didn’t move when his stomach growled and he didn’t move when Wild called him over to help make dinner.

_You haven’t had to work yourself to the bone._

_Ganondorf. You don’t even know who he is!_

_We failed to save him._

_Haven’t you done enough?_

Sky had been right. He had been right all along in the darkness of the night and the solitude of his watches. He _did_ have it too easy. He _didn’t_ have their respect. He _did_ cause the rise of Ganon. He _did_ fail to save Vio.

He _had_ done enough.

Sky sat down. 

But he didn’t cry.

_Twilight’s not himself. He didn’t mean it. You know someone’s out to get you and you know they’re doing it through Twilight._

Could it be? But Warriors and Wind and Wild hadn’t lashed out, not like _that,_ anyway. What had _happened_ to them? He’d definitely need to get answers if he was going to help Twilight.

_Haven’t you done enough?_

No.

No he hadn’t. It would never be enough, not until he could atone for what he did. And if getting to the bottom of this could help them, then he would move heaven and earth to make it happen. His feelings were only getting in the way. He had to focus on what was important. He _knew_ the underlying cause of Four’s hurt and suffering. The real question was what had happened to the first three. It was about time he asked them properly. They’d probably be back on the trail the next day, moving slowly, but moving nonetheless, and if he could just—

“Um… Sky?”

Sky tensed where he sat cross-legged on the ground, his fingers digging into the blistered skin around his ankles.

That was Twilight’s voice.

“Sky, I am so, _so_ sorry for everything I said. I don’t know what came over me, but I didn’t mean a word of it. I… Time slapped some sense into me. I’ve just been so stressed about Vio and everything, but that’s no excuse for what I said. I’m sorry, Sky. If there’s _anything_ I can do to—I’m not going to expect you to forgive me, but—”

“I do forgive you, Twilight.”

His back was still turned to the rancher, his half-lidded eyes sliding over the shadowed world of dusk.

“Wh— _how?_ ”

“Because you’re” _—completely_ _right_ —”a good man, Twilight. A real hero. It takes a lot of guts to come back and apologize after something like that.”

“That doesn’t excuse what I said.”

Twilight was sitting down somewhere behind him and he heard the faint tapping of bowls on stone. Judging by the rich, hearty scent that wafted through the air, Twilight had brought him dinner.

“Don’t worry about me, Twilight, I’ve got a thick skin.”

Well that was a total lie. Sky was acutely aware that he had just spent the last _Hylia knows how many_ hours staring blankly into the distance because Twilight’s words had sliced right through him like a newly-polished sword that shimmered like glass, but telling Twilight that would only draw attention to himself, which was not what he needed. No, he needed to get information out of Twilight.

He turned to face the rancher, trying to plaster on a lopsided, sincere, concerned smile while tactfully ignoring the places around Twilight’s eyes that were still red. His face simply screamed regret and apology and Sky held no grudge. Twilight, out of everyone, was being _honest._ He was only telling the truth. Sky had no reason to get angry at him over it.

“If anything, I’m worried about _you,_ Twi. You’re always so quick to put others first and it was—honestly, I was _shocked_ . Are _you_ okay?”

Twilight handed him a bowl, casting his eyes to the ground. Sky accepted it, warming his hands on its smooth, toasty contours.

“I… I don’t know. It just… it _kills_ me to see Four like this.”

“Has… has he woken up yet?”

Twilight nodded, stirring his stew absently.

“He’s just been staring into the distance. I wish I knew how to help him. I don’t even know who Vio _was_ to him, aside from a friend. What kind of relationship did they _have_?”

Sky opened his mouth. No, that was Four’s secret to reveal. Sky had stumbled in on something he wasn’t supposed to have seen. Four should be able to decide who knew and who didn’t. He blew on his stew instead of saying anything.

Enough about Four for now. This was his chance to finally get some _information_.

“But there’s something else, isn’t there. That’s been eating at you.”

Twilight sighed, lowering his spoon against the rim of his bowl.

“Arbiters’ Grounds holds some rather, ah, unpleasant memories. I’d rather if we didn’t spend three days nearly _killing_ ourselves trying to get there as quickly as possible.”

“Ah.”

That explained why Twilight had seemed so somber, even before Vio had vanished. And hearing about some of the things that had happened to Twilight—fighting his _Zelda?_ Losing the children in his village? Even the things he’d mentioned earlier like getting tossed off bridges and trapped in burning buildings—his quest sounded like it had been _so much harder_ than Sky’s. And, well, he was still feeling the pain from the scars he’d gained on his journey. To make it even worse, as far as Sky knew, none of those things had happened at Arbiter’s Grounds.

What had happened _there_?

But Twilight had been hurting over this even back when it was Wild’s “turn” or whatever he was calling these things, and Vio’ death and Twilight’s sleep deprivation were bound to be tearing him apart.

But it didn’t make _sense_ . It made _too much sense_. Where were the unexplainable mannerisms? The sudden shift in behavior?

Were there _any_ common denominators behind what was happening to everyone?

“Sky? You’re being awfully quiet. You have been for a while, actually. I’m starting to get worried.”

Oh no. Oh _no._ First Time and now Twilight. Everyone was _worrying_ about him! No, he wasn’t the one who needed to be worried about. _Four_ should be their focus. Sky had managed to talk him down, but if he hadn’t been there or had been a second too slow or said the wrong thing, he’d be gone. 

“I’m fine. We should be focusing on Four. He’s going through a lot right now and he’s going to need all the support we can give him.”

Sky took a bite of his stew and— _oh, he had needed that_ —watched as a worried light entered Twilight’s eyes. They narrowed slightly, and Sky could tell that his question-dodging and redirecting had not gone unnoticed. But _no._ Sky _couldn’t_ tell him about this even if he wanted to. It was for Twilight’s own safety. What would they do without his steady, caring presence? His casual camaraderie?

No, Twilight would have to stay in the dark.

They ate the rest of their dinner in a bit of an awkward silence. Sky wished Twilight would just up and _leave_ already so he could keep planning what to do. He was definitely going to try to talk to Warriors, Wind, and Wild tomorrow on the trail. It shouldn’t be too hard to fall behind enough to hold a decently private conversation. Twilight had already told him what was bothering him and it _really wasn’t helpful_ . It was about stuff that _had_ happened, rather than stuff that was _going to happen_ , as it had been with Four. How could the one responsible have pulled strings in Twilight’s adventure to make him upset _now?_ It just didn’t add up.

When their bowls were both empty, Twilight pulled himself to his feet, offering a hand to Sky as well. 

He handed Twilight his bowl instead of taking his hand. 

“Are… you just gonna keep sitting up here? It’s getting late and we’ve already lost a day. We can’t save Vio now, but we can still avenge him by giving whatever is hiding in there a royal ass-beating. You’ll need your strength for when we travel again tomorrow.”

Twi had a point. Sky’d need to be on the top of his game in order to do his investigating.

“Okay.”

He accepted Twilight’s hand and felt himself get pulled to his feet.

The two made their way back to camp, Time giving them a questioning look and both of them nodded, Time nodding back.

Sky crawled into his sleeping bag, letting a breath escape him as he sunk into its folds. Because Twilight was the afflicted one, it meant he was prone to exceptionally reckless behavior—that was almost a guarantee. Sky supposed that he’d been pretty reckless when lashing out at him earlier—people rarely said what they actually thought about Sky—but it was still the first day and, well, it generally only got more intense as time wore on, didn’t it? Would Twilight start being self-destructive? 

Sky, for the millionth time that day, decided he _had_ to get to the bottom of this.

_Then what?_

What?

_If you do find out what’s going on, then what?_

Oh. _Oh,_ how had he not even considered that until now? Warriors and Wind had both used the Master Sword but it hadn’t _done_ anything. It was only a hunch of Sky’s that the Master Sword was managing to protect him at all. What if this _was_ some sort of curse? Sky could find out everything that he could possibly need to know about it, but still he’d be powerless to stop it.

He didn’t exactly have the best track record with curses.

Needless to say, Sky didn’t sleep very well that night.

When darkness did eventually take him, it was soon thereafter broken by Sky’s eyes slipping open to shimmering golden flickers of light on the horizon, broken only by the silhouette of Twilight. He was looking away, into the distant glow, and his sword dangled from his left hand, the blade pulsing with a glimmering golden reflection. His grip on this hilt tightened, and Sky felt a horrible _twisting_ in his stomach and his lungs sucked in a shuddering breath but then tightened and froze, paralyzing him from the inside out aside from the beating of his heart that only grew louder and _louder_ and faster and _faster_.

He tried to open his mouth, to scream, to cry, to call out to Twilight _NO_ but he couldn’t use his lungs and he couldn’t _move_ and the ground was all loose, shifting sand and Twi was spinning the weapon in his hand idly so his grip became reversed and the blade was running down his forearm and _no_ , _no, NO._

The grip where the blade pointed forward meant the enemy was ahead and those one longed to protect where where behind. But now, with a grip like this, the enemy was on the _inside_ and this would somehow protect those _outside_.

It was wrong.

It was _wrong_. 

Especially from Twilight, not Twilight, never Twilight, but when Sky pried his mouth open with sheer willpower alone, the air only rushed out his throat with a quiet, shredded whistle. 

Twilight raised his weapon. In one smooth, stiff motion, elbow never bending, Twi’s arm lifted into the air. 

And Sky could do _nothing_ . He was powerless. What use was the Master Sword _now_ ? What use was _anything now?_

No, it was only Twilight and Sky. Nobody there, just a deep, endless viscous blackness punctuated only by the stabbing, slicing, shards of glass that took the place of sand on the ground.

Twilight’s arms were fully extended above his head now, both hands holding the hilt of the sword with an icy, talon-like grip. 

_NO!_

Sky _had_ to stop him. He had to reach forward, to grab him, to _stop this madness, please, no, we can’t lose you please, we need you don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go_ —

Fighting his aching, locking, protesting muscles, he tried to crawl forward, to just _extend his arm_ , and it started, yes, he was straightening his elbow, _yes, he was moving_ , but as his arm neared being extended, maybe, he fantasized, maybe nearly long enough to reach Twilight’s form which was close now, terrifyingly close now, he could see the way his hands shook from how tightly they gripped the blade, the slight shudders in his shoulders betraying his silent sobs. Just _one more inch and maybe he could just grab the fur on the pelt that hung from Twilight’s back_ but a heart-stopping, slimy wetness slid around his leg like a viscous, engulfing slime that crept up his skin as if it were _alive_ , grabbing and pulling and adhering to him, like a glue that would _never_ come off, like his heavy, endless, drowning guilt. The slime crept up his leg, tentacles of syrup slipping up ever higher, higher, _no, not his arm, he only had to reach a little higher and he’d be able to stop Twilight!_

But it continued to move, and the more he fought, the faster it moved, crawling up his arm and twisting around his skin until his spiraled around his wrist and _squeezed_ , pulling him back, _back, NO_ , he had to _fight it,_ he had to move _forward_ , he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore, only the iron grip _sinking_ _into_ his wrist. If he could shift his weight off his other arm, maybe he could—

His neck. The tendrils had wrapped around his _neck_ , slowly tightening, squeezing, pulling, bringing him back, _back_ , into its depths, into his endless, inky blackness.

And he watched as Twilight’s hands fell, propelled downwards by some force beyond human comprehension. 

He heard it. He wished he didn’t, but he _did_ and from where he lay prostrate on the ground behind Twilight, he could see the blade protruding from his pelt.

_No._

_NO._

**_NO!_ **

Bright, crimson, _fluorescent_ , blood crept down his armor and his form like the blackness that crawled up Sky’s own, _glaring_ in its brightness, turning the whole world from grayscale into a rich, vermillion hue.

Twilight’s hands left his sword and swung to his sides, limply, loosely, but his sword, his blood-slick sword stuck still in his stomach.

He began to fall, leaning forward, away from Sky, into the now blood-red light, and as the inky slime consumed what was left of Sky’s head, the last thing he saw was Twilight twisting before he hit the ground, his pained grimace blazing in the light of the blood-red sun.

And then it all went black and the darkness filled his lungs like thick, black _paint_.

He sucked in a breath, but it was like slick oil in his lungs and he fought and he thrashed and his eyes opened to Twilight’s face staring down at him, concerned, panicked, but no, not in pain, and Sky twisted towards Twilight, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him _back_ , staring desperately at his abdomen. 

His abdomen swathed in a green tunic and a blue wrap, tied with an orange belt.

An abdomen that was most definitely sword-free.

And Sky melted.

Limp, defeated, exhausted, he fell to the ground, heaving, shaking, choking, shuddering, his diaphragm spasming with every breath. 

But a firm, steadying hand settled on his back and loud, exaggerated breaths smoothly slid beside his own.

A feather. 

Soft, dusky violet, tipped with the golden of a sunrise and the brilliant white of perfect, immaculate clouds. 

Drifting, fluttering, up and down. Up like a Loftwing soaring higher on smooth, lazy updrafts. Down like the way Twilight’s sword fell before it pierced him in the abdomen, up like the way the viscous, inky fluid crept up his neck—

He coughed again, shuddering into shaky, heaving sobs once more. 

“...here. It’s okay, Sky. Just breathe with me…”

How long had Twilight been talking to him? He tried to listen in again but couldn’t hear anything over the wild pumping of his heart and the heaving of his breaths and the screaming of his mind.

The hand moved soothing, steady circles over his back and the steady presence of Twilight’s own evenly rising and falling chest. He tried to zone out, to let the even rhythm of his breathing take over and let his mind drift away, and he might have, or he just lost track of time again, because Twilight was still sitting by his side, no longer breathing exaggeratedly, but still keeping his comforting hand on Sky’s shoulder.

“Are you feeling a little better?”

Sky might have nodded; he wasn’t sure. 

“Do you… wanna talk about it?”

Sky definitely shook his head.

“Do you want to try to go back to sleep?”

Or at least pretend to, yeah. As reassuring as having Twilight here and not-dying was right now, Sky didn’t need to be thinking about his every action and how it might come off right now.

He nodded.

“Alright, Sky, but take this,” he held out his pelt. “Your sleeping bag is probably soaked in sweat.”

Sky nodded, accepting it gratefully. The chill night air of the desert was definitely wicking the clammy hotness off of his skin, but soon he’d be shivering.

He laid down in his bedroll, trying to steady out his breathing the rest of the way and having very little luck. Imagines flashed through his mind every time he tried to close his eyes. Twilight, Twilight, always _Twilight_ , with his sword in hand and the impossibly bright _red_ of blood and _feelings_ , feelings of the course, razor-like sand and the heavy, suffocating slime.

And the _sound_ , the sound alone of the sword piercing through flesh and organs alike still echoed in his head.

Sky wanted to throw up.

He was broken out of his thoughts by the form of Wolfie, standing before him and cocking his head curiously stepping closer and whining sympathetically.

Sky felt some—just a hair—of the tension leave his body. It was good to see Wolfie again. 

“Hey, Wolfie. How’d you get all the way out here, huh? I doubt you can use stasis or a sand rod, let alone a sailcloth. Are you magic?”

It was a rhetorical question, of course, Wolfie’s status as magical or not-particularly-magical was not exactly Sky’s most pressing concern, though he was grateful for the companion.

Wolfie’s only response was to settle to the ground at Sky’s side, his body pressed against Sky’s own, his heat seeping through Twilight’s pelt.

“Oh dear, here I am petting a wolf while wrapped up in a wolf pelt. I hope that doesn’t upset you. For the record, it’s Twilight’s pelt. I’ve never even so much as hurt a wolf in my entire life. Promise.”

It was mostly because Sky had never even _seen_ a wolf before meeting Wolfie but Wolfie didn’t need to know that.

He sighed, unconsciously running his fingers through this thick, long fur of Wolfie’s neck.

It was nice to ramble to someone, but not worry about being heard. To just say things without consequence, but still have a listening ear. It was a good combination. 

_Was_ he being listened in on?

He froze for a moment, before tentatively calling out to the camp, “guys? Anyone?”

No response.

He turned to the mildly-concerned looking Wolfie, feeling the need to explain himself.

“I’m just seeing if anyone’s up. Wouldn’t want to bother anyone with my rambling, now would I? I don’t see Twilight, though, so he’s probably patrolling the area. Who knows how long he was sitting with me for.”

He sighed.

“Don’t have nightmares, Wolfie. I’m telling you, they’re _awful_.” He accepted that last word by scruffing the fur around Wolfie’s neck, leaning in.

Wolfie seemingly did not like that, leaning away and growling slightly in the back of his throat.

Sky stopped for a moment, snapping back to his senses. 

This was a literal _wolf_ , not a Loftwing. He might as well be trying to cuddle with a remlit.

He deflated, placing his hands neatly in his lap and staring at them, fiddling uncertainly with his thumbs, until he heard a small, reluctant _whuff_ and felt Wolfie wiggle in closer next to him.

He smiled fondly.

“You act all tough, but you’re just a big softie, aren’t you.”

There was a small grunt from the wolf, who seemed to be begrudgingly accepting Sky’s petting.

It was soothing, _really_ soothing. He could almost breathe normally again, and his heart rate was beginning to slow.

“Sorry about this, Wolfie. I’m sure you’d much rather be out doing wolf things and not sitting here getting pet. I really appreciate it, though you can leave anytime you want.”

Wolfie’s face swung towards Sky, levelling what looked to Sky to be a deadpan glare.

Sky pouted. “Sometimes I honestly have no idea how much human speech you can actually understand.” He sighed. “Even if you didn’t know any, though, I probably still wouldn’t be able to tell you anything. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

Wolfie leaned in closer, looking curious. 

“Don’t you worry your little Wolfie head, though. Everything is completely fine. Nothing’s going on.”

Sky got the distinct impression that, could Wolfie speak, he’d be thoroughly unimpressed by that statement.

“Jeez, what are you, Twilight? You look like you’re five seconds away from giving me a lecture.”

Wolfie made no comment, staring sulkily into the distance.

“I’m sorry. It’s just been rough. I have a lot on my mind right now and nothing’s making any sense.”

Wolfie’s eyes snapped back to him, wide, blue, kind, and questioning.

Sky exhaled sharply through his nose. “I just told you; I _can’t_ tell you.”

Wolfie whined, eyes turning sad and begging.

“Sweet Hylia, are you _begging?_ Can you actually understand what I’m saying? Because now I’m starting to worry you’ll tattle to Twilight on me. I guess it’s a good thing that you can’t speak.”

Wolfie sighed. Sky found it kind of endearing how much it sounded like a human sigh.

“I wish I could tell someone about it, really I do, but I can’t put anyone else in danger. Besides, it’s my burden to bear. I have to try and make it up to them all. For what I did.”

Wolfie’s brow furrowed questioningly and Sky couldn’t help but chuckle at his facial expressions.

“Believe me, Wolfie, the last thing you need to hear is my sob story.”

Wolfie looked like he very much wanted to hear Sky’s sob story.

Sky laughed bitterly to himself. “I was an idiot, I let a bad guy do a bad thing, and now all of my friends have to suffer the consequences of my stupidity. All of them, they carry so much _hurt._ What Twilight said, about everything he’s suffered through? That never would have happened if it wasn’t for me. I’m just a stupid, pathetic idiot. But that’s not really news, now is it. Don’t mind me, Wolfie, I’m just rambling. I know I’ll never be able to make it up to them, but I can try and be the best I can for them. Maybe I’ll even earn the right to stand by their sides and call myself a hero, though I doubt it. But enough about me. I don’t want to hold you up from your sleep or your hunting or whatever it is that wolves do at this hour, so I’ll probably try and go back to bed.”

He extracted his hand from Wolfie’s fur, turned away, and began to lay down again, before being thoroughly interrupted by Wolfie flopping on top of him, spreading his weight over Sky’s chest and pinning him down. 

“W-wolfie! What are you doing?!”

Wolfie didn’t respond, only huffing a huff that made Sky feel like a child in time-out.

“Are you just going to sit on top of me?”

A whuff.

“Is there something I’m supposed to do to get you off of me?”

A whuff.

“Well, you’ll have to tell me what it is if you want me to do it.”

Wolfie didn’t respond.

“Is it supposed to be obvious? Because it’s really not.”

A small whine.

“I’m telling you, I don’t know!”

The two sat in silence for a little while, Sky letting out a sigh and staring at the, well, sky. It wasn’t like he could do much else at the moment.

It was a deep grey-blue, tinges of warm silver tickling at its edges, making way for the burnished gold of sunrise. Sky’s hands absentmindedly wove through Wolfie’s mane-like tufts as he watched the stars get blown out like a sea of tiny silver candles.

Despite the large canine mammal sitting on his chest, he actually found himself breathing far easier than he had in a long while. 

“I’m sorry, Wolfie. I wish I knew what you wanted me to say.”

Wolfie stood up, then, the first flickering lights of morning settling on his fur like fireflies. He paced away.

Was… was that it? He just wanted an apology from Sky?

Honestly, who didn’t, at this point.

He heard Wild’s groans of being woken up. It _was_ morning. Maybe Wolfie was just hungry and sick of dealing with Sky. Wild _did_ have all the food.

Turning around to look, he saw Wild rubbing his eyes and Wolfie sitting pointedly by his side. Wild looked to Wolfie, the former pleasantly surprised and curious and the latter jerking his head towards Sky. Wild’s gaze followed, landing on the caped hero. He smiled fondly, pulling himself to his feet and walking over, crouching by Sky’s side.

“Good morning, Sky.” It wasn’t as chipper as it could have been, but he was by no means looking downtrodden.

Sky nodded in response.

“Hey, Wild. Sorry that Wolfie woke you up. I’m not sure what’s up with him.”

“I do,” Wild grinned, plopping from his crouch into a seated position. “It means you were being self-deprecating. If he sits on you, it means you have to admit that you’re not actually worthless. And you have to if you ever want to move again. Believe me, he’s patient.”

Sky opened his mouth but was interrupted by Wolfie flopping on top of him again like a big, heavy blanket.

Wild chuckled softly. “Was this about you and… and your Zelda?”

Sky shook his head softly. Wolfie let out a small, uncertain whine.

Wild cocked his head. “So what _was_ it about?”

Sky sighed. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Wild looked to Wolfie. “Should I be concerned?”

Wolfie nodded.

“Sorry, Sky. I don’t think Wolfie’s gonna let you off the hook here.”

Really? _Really?_ The _wolf?_ He tries to let his thoughts out for _one second_ and now everyone’s all over him! Just _leave him be!_

_Why the everloving Hylia did this wolf have to have such a complex grasp on human speech?!_

With his luck, Twilight would come back from patrol soon and then all _three_ of them would be on top of him. Literally.

“Please… just leave me alone.”

Wild’s face grew somber and Wolfie whined.

“Do you really want that?”

He did. At this point, he couldn’t open up without endangering everyone or risking having them all hate him—more than they already did, of course. It was up to him to find out what was going on and hopefully do something about it. He couldn’t do that if they alienated him. But he also couldn’t alienate _himself_ , either. He had to walk the fine line that kept him in the group’s good graces, but also ensured that he didn’t have to reveal too much. He needed to get them to open up to him without opening up himself. Why was this so _hard?_ Why couldn’t he go back to when nobody asked him any questions?

He nodded.

Wild nodded in response, pulling himself to his feet.

“If you insist. But you can talk to me anytime. I mean it. I’m gonna go make breakfast now. Wolfie, get off of Sky.”

Wolfie’s head snapped to Wild’s face. He shook it slightly.

“T—Wolfie, get _off_ of him. He wants to be left alone.”

Wolfie looked back to Sky, worry clear in his eyes. He looked so regretful, so _sad_. He looked away for a moment, presumably thinking, and then pulled himself off of Sky, stepping backwards, ashamed.

“ _Thank_ you,” Sky responded, sitting back up. There was no way he’d be able to sleep at this point, so he might as well get ready for the day.

Sometime while he was putting his tunic and the rest of his clothes on, Wolfie vanished and Twilight returned to camp. Thank Hylia for that timing.

But then Twilight looked to Sky and they made eye contact. And Sky could see in those eyes a very familiar worry and a deep, deep sadness.

No …

That was ridiculous.

_It was an item of mine he shouldn’t have touched._

It was…

_How’d you get all the way out here… are you magic?_

He was…

_I don’t see Twilight, though_

It…

_Jeez, what are you, Twilight?_

Twilight.

Sky narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing every inch of the figure who was returning to the campsite. 

His eyes landed on the markings on Twilight’s face. He’d gotten so used to them that he’d completely forgotten they were even there.

They never washed off in water and he had no idea how they’d gotten there.

And they perfectly matched the ones on Wolfie’s face.

Sky was an _idiot._

He thought back, checking everything he knew about either of them.

Were they actually…

_If you don't need to kill at least sixty Poes to break the darned thing, it doesn't even count as a curse._

And then he’d said

_Only Wolfie can properly see and kill them._

Well damn.

But wait—

That meant that everything that Sky had said to Wolfie…

_What had he said?_

He was nonspecific enough that nothing was really revealed, but if he was right, then Twilight definitely knew enough to start worrying about him. 

He looked over to where Twilight was scanning the campsite, nodding to Wild who nodded back.

These days, there was one thing that Sky hated almost as much as himself.

Not knowing.

“Hey, Twilight!”

Twilight’s gaze snapped to Sky’s, startled, and he waved a wave that was trying far too hard to be casual.

Putting on his boots, he made his way over to where Twilight was sitting perched on a rock by Wild’s kitchen area.

“Did you see Wolfie while you were out patrolling?”

“No, I’m afraid I didn’t. Did he come by?”

“Yeah, he did. I’m just trying to figure out how he got all the way out here. We haven’t seen him in _weeks_ and we certainly didn’t shuttle him across those gaps with us.”

Twilight didn’t respond, only shrugging slightly.

Enough games.

“So now I feel like an idiot.”

Twilight looked to Sky, about to go all Dadish Concern on him. No thank you, he was _done_ with games.

“Because you’re Wolfie.”

Twilight flinched, taken aback.

“And you sat there when I was vulnerable and when I said that _I didn’t want anyone to hear what I was about to say_ you pretended to be someone else and _tricked_ me into telling you something that _I didn’t want you to know_ . I wasn’t giving you what you wanted to get out of me, so you _betrayed me_.”

He stared into Twilight’s eyes, his own face hurt and betrayed.

Twilight looked guilty, yes, but he also looked so, so sad and _ashamed_ and legitimately horrified that he’d hurt Sky.

Sky didn’t continue, waiting to hear what Twilight had to say. Twilight bit his lip, looking to the ground.

“Guys?” Wild’s voice could be heard coming from the fire pit. “Please don’t fight.”

Sky turned to Wild.

“You _knew_.”

Wild raised his hands, leaning backwards.

“Only because he once traveled with me in my Hyrule in his wolf form. He recognized me when we met up.”

“But _why didn’t you tell us?_ ”

Twilight sucked in a breath, clearly conflicted about what he was about to say.

“Sky, you’re falling apart. You haven’t been yourself in _weeks_ . You weren’t saying anything and you always seem to be lost in your own head. We’re _worried_ , Sky. You said you _hate_ yourself but then you weren’t telling me anything else. Please don’t bottle this up. We just want to help.”

“ _Haven’t you done enough?_ ”

Twilight stepped backwards, sucking in a breath. He paused, debating with himself.

“No. I haven’t. You’re not _okay_ , Sky.”

They didn’t have _time_ for this! His emotional state was _not their biggest problem right now_ . Four was _actually suicidal_ and very soon, Twilight might be, too. Sky was _fine_ in comparison!

“I’m _not_ our biggest problem right now!”

Twilight and Wild looked to each other. 

“Then what is?”

“Four tried to _kill himself_ two nights ago!” 

They froze, staring at Sky, dumbfounded. 

Twilight sat down on the ground, motioning for Sky to do the same.

“Alright, explain everything from the beginning.”

Sky had no intention of doing any such thing.

“It was my watch, and I spotted Four trying to sneak away from the campsite. I followed him and saw… him about to drive his own sword through his chest. I… I managed to stop him, and we, uh, both kind of passed out from exhaustion after that.”

“Well sh*t.”

“That’s what _I_ said.”

“ _You_ _swore_?”

“That’s not really the point here, Wild.”

“Sorry.”

“But what the actual f*ck, though.”

“So uh… sorry for being on edge, I guess.”

“No, Sky, you’ve done nothing wrong.”—that was _hilarious—_ “You must feel like you’re under so much pressure”— _really_? Hadn’t noticed—“but I’m glad you told us. We’ll have to keep an eye on him.”

Sky supposed that this was a blessing in disguise, then. If this was enough to distract Twilight and Wild, Sky might be able to get everyone off his back. It would also ensure that Four had more people watching over him, helping him through this.

Sky might have actually made a good decision for once in his life.

Breakfast passed, a relatively normal ordeal, with Wild making a feast for the ages—or at least as much as he could while still rationing supplies.

Before he knew it, they were back on the road, Time setting a reasonable pace, all things considered. Four hung at the very back of the group, Twilight making a point to slow down as well.

It was investigation time.

First was Warriors. Conversation was muted among most of the group, so that left plenty of openings to start some. 

Sky exhaled slowly through his mouth. He was tired of not knowing. He was _sick_ of it. 

He sped his pace, steadily working his way towards where Warriors was walking by himself a little ways behind Time.

Once he managed to match his pace with Warriors’ own and confirm that nobody was within reasonable earshot, he started talking.

“Hey, Wars.”

“Hey, Sky. How are you holding up?”

“Pretty well, you?” Zelda had always told him he was a bad liar. He really hoped he’d gotten better since then.

“As well as can be expected.”

Sky nodded. No more wasting time.

“Can I ask you a bit of a weird question? Remember a couple weeks ago when there was that battle and I… uh, took that hit?”

Warriors pursed his lips, nodding.

“I do. You risked your life to save mine. Thank you again for that.”

“It wasn’t a problem at all, really. I just… you weren’t acting yourself, then, and you seemed really off in that fight. I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright, what with all the stress of what’s been happening.”

Warriors furrowed his brow.

“I wasn’t acting myself? How so?”

Sky could have sworn his heart skipped a few beats and he sucked in an inhale.

“Oh, you just seemed kind of… quiet is all. Distant, I suppose. And in that battle, you kept charging off into hordes of enemies instead of fighting near the rest of the group. It was nearly impossible to find you.”

“I was lucky you did, then.” He thought for a moment. “But no, I don’t recall anything specific going on.”

“Oh, okay. I guess there’s nothing to worry about, then. I’m probably just being paranoid.” He laughed nervously, his right hand drifting towards the back of his neck. 

Warriors clapped him on the shoulder in response. “Don’t worry, Sky. Checking in on your comrades regularly is a good practice. You’re not paranoid, Sky. You just want to make sure all of us are okay. And I’m grateful for that. Truly.”

Sky bobbed his head absently.

“Alright, thanks.”

He gradually slowed his pace, hoping to signal that the conversation was over. Warriors got the cue, continuing as he had before and slowly pulling farther and farther away.

He’d seemed honestly confused the entire conversation. It was… strange. He’d really thought he had been acting completely normally. He didn’t seem to remember anything being off. But Sky could still see Warriors’ horrifyingly peaceful face in his mind’s eye. Warriors hadn’t thanked him until three days had passed since the start of his moodiness, and then he’d expressed his gratitude. Something had definitely changed. And that was a while ago anyway. He still didn’t have enough evidence to reach a conclusion. 

Wind, then.

Wind was actually the next person behind Warriors on the trail, which was convenient. Sky only had to walk slowly for a short while before Wind appeared next to him, looking up at him curiously.

“Hey, Sky. You doing okay?”

“Yeah, I’m doing fine. How about you?”

“Pretty good, all things considered.”

“That’s good. Hey, uh, do you remember that time a little over a week ago when I found you in the woods in the middle of the night?”

“Oh yeah! How could I forget? You flipped out!”

Sky grimaced. Wind wasn’t wrong. “Yeah, then. I was just wondering, do you remember how you got there in the first place?”

Wind furrowed his brow and pursed his lips, staring off to the side.

“Not really? I think I probably sleepwalked.”

That wasn’t a good enough answer.

“Have you ever sleepwalked before?”

“Not that I know of. Why?”

_Come on, Wind, asking the questions is my job!_

“Just curious. Wouldn’t want you wandering off in the middle of the night and getting eaten by some desert monster.”

Wind snorted. 

“Believe me, I’d be fine. I could probably fight Molgera in my sleep, anyway.”

Sky tried to smile, not knowing who Molgera was in the slightest. “I’m sure you could. And how were you doing before that night? In the few days before it. Do you remember anything upsetting you at all?”

“No? Sky, please don’t worry about me. Your energy would probably be better directed at Four anyway. I’m fine. Promise.”

Sky nodded. “Yeah, sorry for asking so many questions. I really ought to get more sleep.”

Wind smiled. “That’s what I’ve been saying!” he crossed his arms. “You really oughta take my advice.”

“I should. Anyway, don’t mind me.”

“Alright. You sure you don’t wanna walk together for a bit?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I wanted to check on everyone else.” He jerked his head in a backward motion. “I’ll be sure to stop by afterwards, though.”

Wind nodded. “Thanks for checking in on everyone, Sky. It’s really thoughtful of you.”

“It’s no trouble at all.”

Once again, he slowed his pace, letting his thoughts take him. When his three days were up, Wind had ended up alone, in the forest, without his weapons, leaving his coveted Wind Waker with Sky, and he didn’t even know how he’d gotten there. It was definitely suspicious. And, just like Warriors, when his period of odd behavior ended, so did any feeling that it was off at all. Again, it was a while ago and a lot had happened since then, so maybe the events of it all had gotten lost in the panic of the past few days. It was time to talk to Wild. He’d been the most recent out of all of them. He’d be able to offer the most information.

Slowing his pace and brushing off Legend’s raised eyebrow and Hyrule’s offer of water, he finally reached the Champion.

“Hey, Wild.”

“Sky! Hey, how are you doing?”

“Pretty well”—he was starting to get sick of all the small talk—“you?”

“I’m fine, yeah. You’re not… still upset about Twilight, are you?”

Sky slowed his pace further for a moment, sighing. “I don’t think he should have hidden it from us. What did he think we were going to _do_? Get mad at him for having a cool ability?”

“For the record, I don’t think he should have hidden it either. Time mentioned something about the transformation magic itself being the problem.”

“ _Time?_ Who else knows?”

Wild grimaced, apparently not meaning to let that slip.

“Um, there’s me, Time, Four, and actually I think Legend figured it out himself. I don’t know how the other two found out, though.”

 _Really?_ Almost everyone but Sky knew? It made sense for Twilight to tell those he was closest to, like Wild and Time, and Sky had a feeling he knew how Legend found out, but Four was a mystery. Maybe there was a secret-transformation-ability club that Sky didn’t know about.

But that wasn’t the point.

“Anyway, that’s not actually why I’m talking to you.”

Wild cocked his head. “Really? Then why? Did you have something else in mind?”

“Yeah, I was just going to ask you about how you’re doing. Like before all this Vio stuff went down, you seemed pretty upset, you know? I just thought that all of this would probably, y’know, kick you while you’re down, I suppose?”

Just as Sky suspected, Wild looked confused. _Dammit,_ why didn’t anyone _know_ anything! Just wait, he was going to tell Sky that he didn’t recall being off at all and wow it was so kind of him to check in on everyone and—

“I… I do remember _being_ down, and having that conversation with you. It was around the time I started cooking with you. I… I don’t remember why, though.” His eyes sharpened, as if he’d found something strange, and was turning it over in his mind. 

“I know my memory isn’t always the best, and I get these fuzzy spots sometimes, but this is different. This is just… when I try to think back to _why_ I felt like I did… it’s just blank. There’s nothing. It feels more like the holes in my memory that I have from _before_ the shrine than me forgetting something that happened after.”

Holes… in his memory?

His heart stopped and his lungs froze up, his eyes snapping wide open.

His _memory_.

No _wonder_ everyone was so unhelpful and confused.

They _didn’t_ _remember_. Warriors had no idea what Sky was talking about. Wind didn’t know how he got into the woods and afterwards he was completely back to normal. Because whatever had happened to him before, what _had_ been happening to him, was just… wiped.

 _How?_ By _whom?_

Had it happened to Four? He’d need to check.

Had it happened to _him?_

He felt his breathing accelerate.

Were there gaps in _his_ memory? Holes? What had Wild called them, blank spots?

This was bad.

This was very, _very_ bad.

“... Sky? Are you okay? You’re freaking me out.”

Sky tried to get his breathing under control, something he seemed to be trying—and failing—to do an awful lot, these days.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. Do you wanna take a break?”

No, if they walked any slower they’d bump into Twilight and Sky did _not_ need to be pried into right now. No, he should rush back ahead, pretend he was going to take Wind up on that offer. Yeah.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. I, uh, promised Wind I’d go and talk to him. I’ll—”

“Sky. What’s going on? Twilight said you hate yourself and… Sky, I know how that feels. I know how much you want to push everyone away because you think you don’t deserve anything, not to be loved, not to be happy, nothing. But Sky, I learned the hard way that that only makes things worse. We all care about you so, _so_ much. I’m not going to push, but just know that you can tell me anything. And I won’t tell a soul if you don’t want me to, not even Twilight. You deserve the world, Sky. The least I can do is lend a ear.”

Sky nodded. At least Wild had the decency to leave him in peace. Now he had to comb through everything he could remember since that battle with the Lynels back in Wild’s Hyrule before this all started and see if anything felt blank. This was going to take a while.

Luckily, he had a long walk ahead.

Once the sun began to dip towards the horizon, they actually _stopped walking_. Wow. What a novel idea.

Sky helped Wild prepare dinner for what felt like the first time in years. He’d missed this: the therapeutic slicing of ingredients, the steadily layering aromas that built up as they worked, the gentle camaraderie, and the satisfaction of performing such a vital task. The two worked in relative silence, Time sitting close enough to reasonably contribute in any conversation that might spring up, but not so close that it felt like he was intruding on Wild and Sky’s time together. His presence was a welcome one, though. There had always been something about Time. He exuded an aura of patience and calm, now more than ever. When he sat, partially lit in the amber glow of the fire, Sky couldn’t bring himself to be mad at Twilight or Wild. He just felt… safe. And though he knew none of them were, not really, not ever, not with what Sky had just found out, it was nice to know that he had the Old Man on his side, despite their division over the Master Sword.

It wasn’t long before Wild unleashed his frightfully loud whistle—one of these days Sky would have to find out whose was louder, his or Wild’s—and the group congregated around the fire.

The campsite was filled only with the crackling of the campfire and the sounds of eating. After a few moments, however, the eating began to slow, but conversation remained largely nonexistent. Wind, Wild, and the other usual conversation starters seemed pretty lost in thought. Time was the one to pick up the mantle of breaking the ice.

“So, what’re the biggest things you boys have all fought?”

Legend almost choked on his food in something that could conceivably be called a laugh. Once he was done coughing, Time thumping him on the back to help him clear his throat, he chuckled properly, letting out a snarky, “I’ll let you guys go first so I don’t destroy all your hopes of victory before we even start.”

There was the pointed sound of knuckles cracking coming from somewhere in Wind’s general direction, and Sky couldn’t help but smile at that. 

Warriors crossed his arms confidently. “I fought King Dodongo, massive ruler of the…”

He trailed off when he was met with nothing but disinterest and dismissal. 

“Who _hasn’t?_ ” Legend asked, waving his hand lazily.

Twilight, Hyrule, and Time nodded in a way that signified that they knew the enemy he spoke of and determined that defeating it was a wholly unimpressive feat. Even Four glanced over at the name, seeming to recognize it.

Twilight sat up a little straighter, smirking. “I don’t think I’ve fought any enemies _smaller_ than ‘im. There was Diababa, who filled the entire room, and there was also its bulb, which stretched far below the ground. Then there was Fyrus, who also filled the entire room—and these rooms had some _high_ ceilings. Oh, Morpheel was massive, its eye was bigger than I was. Stallord was giant as well. I actually never saw the bottom half of him so who knows how big he was, really.”

“If we’re talking about creatures who we couldn’t see all of,” Hyrule started, “there was this one dragon who had this super long neck he stuck up from the ground. I couldn’t actually see the rest of him, so as far as I know, he could be the size of an entire castle.”

“But nothing can top the Big Octos!” Wind shouted, leaping to his feet. “They were _huge!_ The size of entire _islands!_ I needed to use a massive mounted cannon to take them out! And even then, they could still swallow up my entire ship if I wasn’t fast enough!”

“ _Well_ …” Wild started in a way that immediately informed everyone that he was about to regale them with a tale that would make them question _how in the name of Hylia he was still alive_ . “There were the divine beats, one the size of a whole _lake!_ And then, well, I wouldn’t really call it—wait you said _fight_ not _defeat_ so that gives me a _wide_ margin of error here—Din’raal was pretty neat but I’m not entirely sure if that qualifies because he didn’t really do much _oh, wait_ I fought Naydra because she was corrupted so yeah, I fought a huge dragon that encircled an entire mountaintop. _Actually,_ if the only requirement is that we _fight_ them, then like… all of nature? Does that count? Because this one time I tried to take this thunderstorm—”

“Aaaaaaand who votes to disqualify Wild?”

“Hey, the only criteria were that we had to fight it!”

“How about you, Sky? Fought anything huge?”

Sky pulled his attention away from the conversation at hand and thought back to his own adventure. The Imprisoned was pretty big… but no, wait, there was Levias, who he had to fight on his Loftwing. Actually, was he fighting Levias or the monster inside him? If Wild counted a corrupted dragon, then surely a corrupted sky-whale would qualify?

“There was Levias, this huge whale-like creature who lived in the Thunderhead, this huge mass of clouds in the sky. He held great knowledge, but had been corrupted, so I had to fight him in midair. He was definitely larger than a good number of the floating islands, though I’m not sure how good of a… a comparison-thingy that is.”

He’d lost any semblance of eloquence he’d had while talking once he spotted Legend, staring at him with a mask of utter shock and horror. Had Sky somehow broken his record so thoroughly that he couldn’t help but look like someone he loved had just been killed in front of him? But that didn’t make any sense. They’d all been using horribly vague descriptors to portray how big any of the enemies they’d fought actually were. There was no reason he’d react to Sky’s and nobody else’s because of its size. Was it because he somehow recognized the description? And here Sky had thought that nearly all remnants of life in the sky had been wiped away. He resolved to ask Legend about it later and turned his attention back to the conversation.

“Alright, Legend, It looks like it’s your turn to ‘blow us all out of the water,’ ” Wild goaded, smirking at him.

Legend snapped himself out of whatever memory he’d been lost in and tried to collect his thoughts. “Well there was this one dragon. And then there was this _other_ dragon. Honestly, I can’t remember any of their names. But they were all massive. And one of them in particular _sucked_ but anyway, this one time I fought the floor. Like the entire floor. It really wasn’t that hard but like… it was the entire floor. I mean it had a face on it so it probably qualifies as an enemy. Like the door-thingies wouldn’t open until it was dead, so it was definitely an enemy. And if _fight_ is the only criterion we have here, then there was that time I destroyed an entire tower because getting to the top was too much work so I just… lowered it. So yeah. They were all huge. Wait, how are we even judging size anyway? Because it sounds like most of us have fought some flavor of massive dragon, but I don’t think any of us actually sat down and measured the things, so how are we going to decide who wins?”

“It shouldn’t be too hard to decide.” Time’s smirk only grew as he continued. “I don’t suppose you boys have fought anything bigger than the moon?”

There was dead silence save the gusting of a far-off wind that carried the gentle crunching of a rolling tumbleweed.

A few confused mutters rippled through the camp before Hyrule spoke up. 

“Can you elaborate a little?”

Time’s grin was now fully sh*t-eating. “Of course. I fought the moon.”

The bewildered looks persisted.

“It was causing a lot of problems.”

Wild leaned in conspiratorially, muttering, “so’s mine. How’d you get rid of yours?”

Before Time could respond, Twilight butted in. “No, wait, you didn’t fight the moon. It’s still there.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Wind interrupted, pouting. “Was that a fever dream adventure? I vote we don’t count the fever dream ones.”

Sky felt his brow furrow in extreme concern. “The what?”

“Y’know! The ones that secretly didn’t happen! Tetra’s crew said we were only gone like _ten_ minutes, but we had this entire adventure with Bellum and the Temple of the Ocean King, and—”

“No, wait, those totally count!” Legend sat up straighter, indignant. “That tower was a pain in the _ass_ , and I am not going to let it get disqualified just because it only happened in my head!”

“Well in _my_ head, I just fought the entire planet, so _I_ win.” Warriors waved his hands mockingly as he spoke.

“Wait, then who’s the winner?” Wild asked, scanning the faces in front of him.

“Now, now, we all know that’s not the point,” Time replied in a tone that was simultaneously gloating and genuine.

“You’re only saying that because you don’t want us to read too far into it because if we did, then mine would totally be the biggest!” Wind huffed and crossed his arms.

“Again, we have no way of actually confirming any of their sizes, so really, this entire conversation was pointless.”

“Wow, Legend, way to spoil the fun.”

“What? But it’s true!”

Sky tuned out the rest of the bickering, instead letting his eyes fall over the easy smiles of the group. Warriors was pouting, but it was all a display. Sky could see in his eyes that he was enjoying himself. Legend and Wind continued to debate the validity of “fever dream adventures,” Legend defending his position more earnestly than Sky would have anticipated. Sky himself put the mere existence of “fever dream adventures” into his Later Problems Bucket™ and tried to enjoy Wind’s laughter instead. Twilight’s smile was looking more and more genuine as time wore on and Wild and Hyrule seemed to be genuinely enjoying themselves. Time looked on the group with that bittersweet fondness that always aged him far beyond his years. Even Four seemed to be enjoying himself, an uneasy, watery smile tentatively creeping across his face. Sky felt a swell of pride within him. Four was starting to heal, perhaps, and someday, he might actually be _okay_ again. 

Time shooed them all to bed so they could start walking before it got too hot, leading to a chorus of _okay,_ _Dad_ ’s that had the Old Man smiling as if they really were his own children. Sky couldn’t help but smile himself at that.

As he drifted into sleep, the commotion and camaraderie wore off and allowed his thoughts to begin creeping in like a wayward tide. _Think back, has your memory been altered? Also, you have to try and talk to Twilight again and see what you can figure out. You only have one day left until it switches again. Make it worth it. How much farther until Arbiter’s Grounds? That’s when this can all end. When we can finally defeat whoever is behind this and make it stop._

His thoughts consumed him, leaving him planning conversations he knew he’d never have and combing through memory after memory. Every time he thought he was about to slip off, Twilight’s bleeding body flashed through his mind once more. It would be a restless night.

* * *

Sky wasn’t entirely sure if he even fell asleep or if he’d just closed his eyes for a moment, but when he opened them, it was accompanied by a crackling, a whooshing, and the blurry shape of the campfire growing larger for a moment, sending embers sparkling into the sky, before shrinking again.

Rubbing his eyes, Sky could make out Time’s profile as he sat by the amber glow, holding something oblong fondly in his hands before he idly tossed it into the fire. It clattered against something else before cracking and sending up another fountain of sparks.

What was Time _burning?_

Sky dragged himself into a sitting position, now thoroughly confused, and felt a steady, acidic _dread_ rising in him.

Slipping his feet into his boots, he made his way towards the fire, now suddenly aware that he was in Time’s blind spot. He didn’t want to scare the Old Man, so he shuffled a little, trying to make himself known.

Time glanced over, turning his head a significant amount in order to catch a glimpse of him, as Sky sat down on a nearby log. Time didn’t try to hide what was in his hands.

Masks.

They were masks. 

Some of them were honestly pretty creepy, like one that was a smooth skin tone, broken by a horrifying tiny head stitched to the top.

“Hey, Time.”

Time simply nodded before seemingly remembering something and turning to face Sky more fully, smiling warmly.

“Hey, Sky. Is something troubling you?”

“Why are you burning your masks?” That was abrupt, _damn_ , that was really abrupt but it was a legitimate question.

Time didn’t start at the question, looking down fondly at the stack in his hands.

“Most of these are completely useless now. They’ve just been weighing down my pack.” He chuckled. “My old spine could use the break.”

Sky felt himself frown. 

“Then why’d you hang onto them for so long?”

Time seemed put off by the questioning, but obliged, rubbing his thumb along one fondly. 

“Sentimental value, I suppose. But that’s now being outweighed by the sheer impracticality of carrying them all.” His face shifted, as if lost in a memory. “I have a lot of masks,” he offered, as if it was in any way a helpful explanation.

Sky nodded, accepting this explanation. Time was probably the most emotionally stable out of all of them. If he thought burning the masks was a logical thing to do, then who was Sky to stop him? 

They sat in silence for a moment longer, Time pausing in his pack-lightning endeavors until finally decided to speak, laying the masks on the ground as he did so.

“How are you doing?”

“Fine, yeah. Just trouble sleeping. You?”

“I’m doing well. What’s keeping you up? Nightmares?”

Sky shrugged. “Just a little restless is all.”

Time softened imperceptibly. “Do you wanna get those thoughts out? Get them to stop bouncing around your head?”

“No, I—” _just_ _have a lot on my mind._ But Time had already anticipated that response. Flicking his eyes up, he saw Time smirk, a gentle, knowing look.

“I don’t know. I think I’ll just go back to bed.”

Time nodded, his facial expression barely changing, but the air about him shifting to one of muted disappointment.

Sky sucked it up. He could handle a little disappointment. It turned his whole spine to burning ice that melted into his stomach, but that was nothing by now.

As he stood up, Time spoke again, stopping him. 

“You don’t have to go through this alone. Open up to them. Take—”

“I know. I _know,_ alright? Open up, Take care of myself, breathe, relax, don’t be too hard on myself, everyone loves me, I _get it_.”

Time’s stare hardened. “Evidently not, considering how you’ve been acting. What’s going on.”

Sky sucked in a small breath, thinking. He’d managed to get Wild and Twilight off his back by telling them about Four. Time was bound to find out anyway, because Twilight would almost definitely tell him. If he told Time now, then maybe it would get him off his back.

He let out his breath, turning to Time, acting defeated, and pretending the Old Man had finally cornered him.

“Four… hasn’t handled the loss of… y’know”—Vio’s name had become a bit of a sore topic—“particularly well. He’s… he tried to, uh, end his life a few days ago.”

Time sucked in a small inhale through his nose.

“Who knows?”

“Just Twi and Wild.”

Time nodded, expression grave. “Thank you for telling me, though you should have done it sooner.”

Sky shifted on his feet, looking off to the side.

“You don’t have to bear this burden alone, Sky. Having someone close to you become suicidal is hard. Do you wanna talk about it?”

Sky took a deep, controlled breath. “I think I’d rather just go back to bed.”

Time shifted his gaze to the fire, his good eye hidden from view, but his face unmistakably sad.

“If you insist. I’m sorry.”

Sky moved towards his bedroll, but felt like he should say something more. 

“I’m sorry, too.”

With that, Sky crawled into his sleeping bag and closed his eyes, suddenly drained.

He opened them a few moments later to reveal a slight spattering of stars across a misty blue field. Glancing over at Time—no, wait, that was Legend. How long had he been out?

The veteran sat on the opposite side of the fire from Sky and the sleeping heroes. He looked up occasionally, scanning the horizon, before returning to his—sewing? No, it looked like embroidery. His brow was set, deep in thought. He suddenly cursed, fiddling with something in his lap, and then pouted, sweeping the campsite with his eyes.

They landed on Sky, and the two made eye contact. Sky stiffened.

Legend’s face softened and he jerked his head, inviting Sky to join him.

Sky moved as if to accept, but froze. Every time he tried to talk to someone, they started asking him questions, trying to figure out how he was doing. His Four excuse could only last so long. He had nothing to gain from talking to Legend anyway. The veteran was safe, for now. 

But wait, Sky had meant to ask him why he seemed so surprised by his description of Levias. But if it meant another interrogation, he could wait. That wasn’t important.

He pretended he was just adjusting his bedroll and laid back down.

“We both know you’re not going to be able to sleep at this hour,” Legend’s rarely-used soft voice drifted across the campsite, a knowing edge in it nonetheless.

Sky _knew_ that, but Legend didn’t have to _say_ it.

The veteran continued.

“It’s one of those nights, isn’t it. I won’t ask questions if you don’t.”

Now _that_ was an inviting offer, even if it meant that he wouldn’t be able to learn anything. 

Extracting himself from his covers, he picked his way over to the fire for the second time that night.

It wasn’t until he sat down next to Legend with a sigh that he realized just how tired he was. He really did need more sleep. But it wasn’t like he _wanted_ to be awake right now. Ugh.

They sat in silence, the distant misty blue of the sky lightening slowly, the fog lifting, chased away by the promise of a sunrise. The fire crackled, burning low. They’d found wooden barricades propped up occasionally, weather-worn and sharpened to jagged points. They didn’t burn very well because they were honestly more sand than wood, but it was the best they had.

Legend was missing his hat, Sky now noticed. It was sitting in his lap, an embroidery hoop clasped around it. He was carefully stitching elegant swirls reminiscent of waves into the dark border that usually encircled his head. The thread was a deep navy, almost the exact same color as the border itself, except it shimmered slightly in the firelight.

“That’s some beautiful needlework you’re doing there.”

A Legend’s lips quirked upwards from their previously neutral tilt, his eyes softening. 

“Thank you.”

Sky felt the need to get _something_ off his chest, but every time he tried, it never went well. But Legend understood. Legend wouldn’t ask questions. Maybe he could…

“Do they ever feel… suffocating?”

Legend exhaled through his nose with a smile, pushing his needle through and pulling the thread taught.

“You’ve been looking out for everyone, ever since the beginning. You see someone who seems off, and you comfort them. I’m sure a great number of us feel indebted to you. So, when they see you looking upset or acting off, they want to return the favor. They know how much it meant to them when you helped them, so they want you to feel the same way.”

“But they’re only making it _worse._ Isn’t it clear that I _don’t_ want to be interrogated constantly?”

The veteran chuckled, laying his embroidery in his lap and looking to Sky, really _looking_ at him, for the first time since they started talking.

His eyes were sad but warm, and his shoulders were loose. He ran a hand through his hair, brushing his bangs back over the top of his head, though they slid back down shortly thereafter. He looked off to the side, and seemed to laugh quietly at his own private joke. He laid his cap down on the ground next to him and stood up, brushing the sand off his pants. He extended a hand downwards towards Sky, smiling as if he couldn’t believe what he was doing.

“Come ‘ere. You look like you could use a hug.”

Sky sucked in a breath and felt his eyes open wide, his shoulders falling as he exhaled shakily. He reached out, tentatively, and Legend grabbed his wrist, pulling him up with impressive—but not surprising, as this _was_ Legend—strength. From there, Legend let go, stepping forward and burying his face into Sky’s shoulder, his strong arms encircling Sky, one around his waist and the other around his torso. He squeezed, inhaling and pressing himself into Sky. Legend’s warmth, both from his body heat and from sitting by the fire for so long, seeped into Sky’s bones, straight through the shirt he always wore beneath his chainmail. Sky felt a shuddering breath escaped him and he suddenly remembered to hug back, wrapping one arm around Legend’s shoulders and placing the other on the back of his head, pressing his face into Legend’s hair and sucking in a big, deep breath. He closed his eyes and exhaled, a heavy, shuddering thing. Legend started running his hand up and down Sky’s back, rubbing firm circles up and down his spine. 

They stayed like that for some time, only the crackling fire, Legend’s steady breaths, and the distant whistling of wind for sound.

Sky relaxed his grip after a moment, and Legend did as well. The two pulled apart, Sky looking down at Legend, shocked and touched, his hands lingering on the veteran’s shoulders.

“Thank you, Legend. Really.”

Legend looked off to the side, his face heating up. “This _never_ _happened_. I was just thanking you for letting us use your Sailcloth and bug-thingy to cross that canyon the other day.”

Sky felt his smile creep farther across his face. “Well, I suppose I better thank _you_ for that block you summoned and the Sand Rod stunt you pulled off.” He began leaning forward as if going in for another hug.

“Ah! No! Don’t you _dare!_ I swear to Farore, if you—”

He was interrupted by Sky sweeping him into another hug, this time squeezing Legend’s torso and burying _his_ face into Legend’s shoulder. The blond stopped squirming, sighing and resting his hands on Sky’s shoulder’s rubbing his thumbs back and forth absentmindedly.

“Look at that, you give a man an inch and he takes a mile. Remind me to never be nice to you again.”

Sky chuckled, releasing Legend from the hug reluctantly.

“But I’m not kidding,” Legend’s face suddenly darkened, his glare fiery, “tell anyone about this and you’re dead meat, sky boy.”

Sky couldn’t help himself. “At least I won’t be _rabbit_ meat.”

“Congratulations, you’ve just shortened your lifespan by fifteen years.”

Sky felt his smile slip. “Does that mean that we’ll still be… y’know… in the same time or whatever that far in the future?”

Legend frowned as well, taking his seat back by the fire again. Sky joined him.

“There’s no way of knowing what will happen, really. We still don’t even know who’s in charge of this nonsense and we haven’t exactly received a whole ton of _divine assistance_.”—he waved his hands mockingly as he spoke—“I wouldn’t put it past Hylia or whoever’s up there to send us all back home when we’re done.”

That… hurt more than Sky thought it would. He knew Legend hated Hylia—if only he knew that Hylia wasn’t the one to blame for his unimaginably difficult life—but it still stung to hear him talk about Sky’s partner that way, regardless of how misguided he was in that hatred. _He shouldn’t be hating deities anyway_ , Sky’s guilt reminded him, _because he should be living an easy life. But he can’t. Because of you_.

Sky could feel Legend’s eyes on him and suddenly realized his face had slipped entirely into a melancholy stare. Before Sky could speak, Legend did.

“But enough of that kind of talk. We’re here now and that’s what matters. We’ve barely even done anything yet, so I’m sure our adventure is just beginning.”

Sky nodded. They hadn’t even had to traverse any dungeons yet. 

Legend resumed his embroidery, Sky grabbing a stick from the nearby pile of firewood before realizing he didn’t have his carving knife on him. Sky fiddled with the stick in his hands, turning it over and over, listening to the wind and the fire and Legend’s quiet work and felt his eyes slip shut, his hands still, and his head drift off to the side and land on something warm.

* * *

When Sky was next dragged into consciousness, it was in the safety of his bedroll, his blankets wrapped around him as if he’d never left. Was that… was it all a dream? Wild was already calling them over to breakfast, leaving Sky to spend his entire morning eyeing Legend for any sign that their interaction had even transpired. By the time they’d started walking, Sky still hadn’t gotten an answer.

He found himself walking alongside Four on the trail, having realized that he hadn’t actually spoken to the smithy since… well… yeah.

The group had spread out the way it always did, the Links walking in pairs or groups of three, and after a short while of hiking, Sky finally felt ready to talk to him.

“So, Four—”

“Please don’t call me that anymore.”

Sky’s face snapped to Four’s. The blond was biting his lip as if he hadn’t meant to say that.

It wasn’t very hard for Sky to put the pieces together.

Four. There weren’t exactly… four anymore.

“What… what would you like me to call you instead?”

After a moment’s thought, Four—er, the young hero—responded.

“Smithy. Call me Smithy, please.”

“Alrighty, Smithy it is.” He paused for a moment. “How are you… holding up?”

Fou—Smithy sighed. “I’m honestly shocked I’m still alive. I guess I should thank you for that. So, uh… thank you.”

“Of course. I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

“But I’m not Four anymore. That was someone else.”

“If you’re the same person you were before doesn’t really matter to me. I like _you_ and that’s not going to change. I’m not going to stop caring about you.”

“But you don’t even know who I _am._ This is the first time we’ve spoken since…”

“You don’t have to say it.”

“But I can’t deny it. Not anymore. This is the first time we’ve spoken since V-vio died. What makes you so sure you even _like_ me?”

“Well, it’s been a few days and you haven’t tried to kill me yet, so that’s a start.”

“You have scarily low standards.”

“They’ve worked so far.”

“Then you shouldn’t even like me because I _did_ almost have you killed!”

“What? When?”

“Over the f*cking canyon! You almost died! Had Wind not caught that second chain, you would be _dead!_ ”

“But you weren’t the one who launched me across it.”

“We wouldn’t have done that if not for me.”

“Maybe. My point is that you yourself have not attempted to murder me. So that gives me no reason to hate you. So I’d say I like you. And I’d like to get to know you a little better so I can like you even more.”

“I feel like I’m supposed to be pointing out the holes in that logic but quite frankly, I have no idea where to start.”

“Because it’s flawless.”

F—Smithy sighed, hugging his arms. “I just miss him.”

“Do… do you wanna tell me about him?”

Smithy’s gaze shot to Sky’s.

“Do I what?”

“Do you want to tell me about him? Good memories, what he was like, anything. To let his memory live on, I guess.”

Smithy bit his lip, his eyes watering slightly.

“I’d like that, I think. I’d like that a lot.”

“Then go right ahead.”

The day’s travels flew by, Smithy regaling Sky with tales of how the Four Sword had split him apart, what the four parts were like, and their adventures together.

Sky could tell Smithy was leaving parts out. Whether he was giving himself room to tell more stories later or if they were legitimately unpleasant memories that he didn’t want to dwell on, Sky couldn’t be sure. But Vio, to Sky’s understanding, was always so clever, so smart. He was loyal, and kind, Smithy had been sure to stress, but he was cunning as well.

“So when I asked you for help before, with finding out what was going on—”

“Oh, yeah, Vio was all over that. His very own mystery—f*ck, wait, is that still happening?”

“I, uh…” the last thing Smithy needed was to worry about the disaster that had been Sky’s reality for the past few weeks. Besides, if Sky got Smithy involved again, would he lose another color? But his three days had already happened. Could they happen again?

_Could they happen again?_

_Could there be repeats?_

It hadn’t happened _yet_ , but what was to stop this from starting all over again once it had happened? They’d lost their memories, so—

_Could it have already happened?_

Everything essentially reset every three days. Everyone gave back their items and forgot what had been going on. 

_Has it happened before?_

But no, Sky had learned cooking from Wild. He would have already known how to cook

Unless he’d forgotten.

Sh*t.

Was this an endless loop? Would Sky figure it out? _Did_ he figure it out before and then get his memory wiped? 

Was he trapped in this hell forever?

But no, they’d had the Lynels before and now they were heading to Arbiter’s grounds. Sky could remember an entire, cohesive narrative from when he met up with the group until now. Wild had _noticed_ the holes in his memory. Their enemy probably couldn’t _alter_ memories, because they wouldn’t have left holes, which were easier to spot.

This had to have been the first time.

It had to be.

He’d just keep telling himself that.

Besides, he had the Master Sword. That _was_ protecting him, right?

“Sky? Are you okay?”

_Oh, he was talking to Smithy._

“Yeah, I just remembered that I had forgotten all about it during the chaos of the last few days. I haven’t really noticed anything since. Besides, we have so little information at this point that the best thing we can do is get to Arbiter’s Grounds and beat whatever’s there.”

Smithy nodded, hugging himself a little tighter.

“I’m really sorry. About all of this.”

Sky stopped walking. 

“Woah, woah, woah, woah, this isn’t your fault! You’re the _victim_ here. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“But I made such a big deal about Vio and dragged everyone across the desert without food or rest and they probably all _hate_ me by now and it was all for nothing and they don’t even know who he _is_. And I also made you forget all about that weird stuff going on and you had said that you were worried people were going to get hurt or worse in battle because of it and now we haven’t been keeping track of it and—”

“Smithy. It’s gonna be okay. I’m sure everyone doesn’t hate you. I know I don’t. We all have our secrets and we know better than to pry.” But that wasn’t even true because nobody had been respecting Sky’s privacy at all, so why would they respect Smithy’s? “Besides, we’re a tough bunch. We’ve been through worse. Let’s keep heading to Arbiter’s Grounds, and then we can defeat whoever’s behind all this.”

Footsteps behind Sky alerted him to the presence of another Link and sure enough, Time was gaining on them. Arbiter’s Grounds still shone ahead of them, growing visibly closer by the day. They were on a bit of a rise, the desert not being perfectly flat, and seemed to be at one of the highest points. Mesas still dotted the area, the occasional wooden barricades propped up against it, but they were beginning to increase in frequency. Stretching ahead of them before Arbiter’s Grounds was what looked to be a day’s journey—but he couldn’t be sure; judging distance in the desert was near impossible—but it was broken by another crack. This one looked to be more of a pit than anything, being more circular than the others, but was otherwise the same. In front of Arbiter’s Grounds was a mess of dilapidated ruins, though Sky couldn’t make out much. The trail began to slope down, a few smaller cliffs and drops pockmarking the trail ahead, though they didn’t look to be much of a problem. 

Time finally caught up to them, their conversation quieting as he approached, and he nodded to the two of them in greeting.

After a few minutes of general smalltalk, Time gave Sky a look that begged for him to give them some alone time.

Now _that_ was suspicious.

What could Time possibly want to tell Smithy that he didn’t want Sky to hear?

 _It’s none of your business_.

No, actually, it was exactly Sky’s business. Everything that happened in the group was Sky’s business. Because he needed information. The more he knew, the better his chances were of getting to the bottom of this. If anyone said anything to anyone, Sky needed to know about it, he decided.

_You betrayed me!_

When Twilight did it, it was different. Twilight knew that Sky didn’t want him to know these things but tried to find out anyway. Sky was… 

This was _different_.

It was life or death. He could make these kinds of exceptions.

So, what was the best way to eavesdrop? There was a place up ahead where the trail went down a ledge and then along the bottom side. If they went down, he could follow along from the top and listen it. Then, he could just jump off with his sailcloth.

He felt a smile creep across his face. He was honestly pretty proud of himself.

Making some contrived excuse about being tired to convince Time both that he intended to respect his wishes and that he just happened to be a terrible liar, he slowed his pace, watching them climb down the small ledge and walk along it. The ground on their end sloped downwards but it remained level for Sky, who found himself growing farther and farther away as they spoke. Eventually, they stopped walking altogether, Time glancing backwards for a moment.

Now _this_ was interesting.

He couldn’t make out much of what was said, but Sky did manage to make out Time pulling a mask from his pack and holding it out to Smithy. It appeared to be… a Goron?

Smithy refused ardently, shaking his head, probably saying something about how he couldn’t accept a gift like that. Time pressed. He held up a finger, counting on his hand the points he was making. He’d gotten to three or four when Smithy finally caved, accepting the gift.

Why was Time _giving_ his mask away? He’d said he was getting rid of them to lighten his pack, but he’d rather carry something than make someone else do it for him. As much as he played up the old man act, it wasn’t _this_ bad. And if he really wanted to lighten his load, then Smithy wouldn’t have rejected at first. He’d _want_ to help. Unless Time didn’t say he was lightening his load. The way he was counting off points on his hand, it really looked like Time was trying to make a case, as if it was legitimately useful and he wanted Four to have it. 

It didn’t add up.

Was he lightening his pack, or running a charity?

He only wished he could have heard what they were saying, but they were talking in low voices and by now, Sky was at the top of a full-blown cliff. He leaned farther forward, trying to catch a snatch of sound, but he accidentally kicked some sand off the edge. It trickled down towards them. Sky flung himself backwards before they could look up, but he didn’t doubt that they had noticed. 

That was close.

He’d have to wait a while before heading down. 

He had plenty to think about in the meantime.

Time was getting rid of his masks. He was being inconsistent about it how or seemingly why, possibly lying because of it. It was… weird. And why now? Why not during the rush for Vio? It didn’t make sense.

_But it didn’t make sense. It made too much sense. Where were the unexplainable mannerisms? The sudden shift in behavior?_

Was… 

No...

Was it _Time?_

Was Sky just _wrong?_

But it didn’t make any sense. Why did Twilight—

Because he was stressed and worried and sleep-deprived. Other people could be upset for other reasons when it was someone else’s turn. Just look at Smithy.

Who _was_ it?

But what nagged at the edge of Sky’s thoughts every time he tried to think too deeply into the matter was the prodding notion that _if it’s not actually Twilight right now, then everything he said to you before, he said of his own volition, unaffected by any outside force. Everything he said, he meant to say._

 _He really does hate you_.

Sky plopped to the ground, resting his head in his hands, and feeling the sun beat down on him. Time had been disappointed in him last night for not talking. Twilight hated him. Warriors and Wind probably thought he was nuts by now.

He was pushing everyone away.

Lying to them.

Eavesdropping on them.

He sucked in a breath.

If they all hated him by the end of this, he didn’t care. He _didn’t_. Because they’d be alive and okay. It didn’t matter what they thought of him as long as they all made it out of this in one piece. Then it would hurt less when this all inevitably ended and they went back to their own times.

Sky sighed.

He had to steel himself. Where was his resolve? He had a mission to accomplish and by Hylia, he was going to see this through until the end.

He was broken out of his thoughts by Wind’s voice below, talking to someone. Sky had better get walking again.

Once Wind had faded out of earshot, Sky dropped down, his sailcloth catching him before he hit the ground and his boots landing softly in the sand. 

He spent the rest of the day alone. Without someone walking behind him whose voice he could use as a cue to speed up or someone to walk by his side to keep his pace, Sky traveled much slower than usual. By the time he got to camp, everyone had already arrived and the cooking fire was lit. 

It was as he was arriving that he caught sight of two figures, Time and Twilight, a little ways from camp, talking. There was a small barricade between them and camp. They thought they were hidden. They thought everyone believed whatever lie they must have spouted about collecting firewood. 

But not Sky.

They couldn’t fool him.

Sneaking closer, carefully positioning himself at their backs and pressing close to a nearby boulder, he managed to catch snippets of their conversation.

“—eity mask. Are you sure you want to—”

“—ou should have it—”

“—ure?”

“—s, I am.”

“—t if I lose control… —pened between me and Sky, I d—”

“—rust you.”

“—ut _why?_ ”

As their conversation grew more and more impassioned, they started talking louder and louder, Sky feeling comfortable enough to scoot closer, but didn’t actually attempt to look, for fear of being seen.

“The mask does not like to let go of its host once it’s found one. It’s getting impatient with me.”

 _Another mask._ Was he just giving them _all_ away? And what was this about it getting impatient? This was the third reason he’d given. It was all _lies_ with the two of them. No wonder they got along so well. But what was the _real_ reason, then?

_Did Wind accidentally leave it with his stuff?_

_The Sheikah Slate perched innocently atop his red tunic._

And now the masks.

Inexplicable behavior, random acts of kindness seemed to be common, or at least heartfelt conversations, they were all common denominators. But giving things away, that was certainly a constant. Had Warriors given anything away?

_It sounded like he was prattling on about tactics and battle strategy. Something about funneling enemies through choke points? That wasn't even relevant to the battle they just fought. Why did Warriors feel the need to tell them about this all of a sudden?_

He was giving away his _knowledge_ , how did Sky not realize? Had he done anything with his scarf? Sky hadn’t noticed. _Dammit,_ he should have been paying more attention instead of getting wrapped up in his own head! He was so busy feeling sorry for himself that he might have missed a vital clue!

Giving things away. Important things, precious things. That was definitely a common symptom and here Time was giving away _all of his masks_ and Sky had thought it was _Twilight,_ how could he have been so _stupid_ ? Time _had_ been acting off, too, but Sky hadn’t questioned it because he figured that Time knew what he was doing but _this was what he got for trusting people, this was what he got for not being observant enough, this was what he got for not being shrewd enough, cynical enough._

But _no,_ he couldn’t get lost in his head again! They were having a conversation and Sky was going to miss all of it!

“The marks… but then what makes you think that I’d be able to resist it? You just said—”

“I know. But I also know the nature of the transformation magic you use. You’ve managed to hold onto yourself while using that crystal of yours. If anyone can handle the mask, it’s you.”

“I… Time, are you sure about this?”

“I’d bet my life on it.”

“Let’s hope you never have to.”

“With our luck?”

“...I know. I’m glad you didn’t try to fight this alone.”

The wind picked up, sweeping across the evening landscape with a howl, rushing along the rocks and reminding Sky that the group didn’t actually know he’d gotten back yet.

He’d heard enough.

Enough to know that he was _dead wrong_ . He should have been keeping a closer eye on Time but he’d been so convinced it was Twilight even when he _knew_ something was off and he _knew_ it didn’t add up, but he was just so _sure_ that Time was okay because he _trusted_ him.

He wasn’t about to make that mistake again.

But if it was Time, then what was he going to _do_?

There hadn’t been any battles—Legend had pointed that out before, but it was still eating at Sky—so he hadn’t been particularly reckless, but Smithy had…

Sky wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off of Time for a second from here on out. It was the last day of this three day period and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get any information out of him.

 _Sh*t,_ he should have been interrogating _Time_ but he’d wasted all of his time on _Twilight_ and now he only had a few hours left until everything reset and Time became _useless_ to him and this whole blasted cycle would have been _wasted_. 

“Sky! There you are! We got so worried, we thought you’d gotten lost out in the desert by yourself! We were just about to send Twilight out looking for you!”

Sky stopped where he’d been circling away from Time and Twilight, turning towards the sound of Hyrule’s voice.

_Act natural._

What did that even mean?

_What’s your story?_

Got lost. Lost in daydreams—they’d buy that, right? Silly Sky, always getting caught up in his own head—and didn’t realize that he’d wandered off the trail. So he should be acting sheepish, embarrassed, yes, that. Nervous laughter, hand on the back of the neck, yes, perfect.

“Hey, guys! Sorry I took so long. I completely lost track of time and the next thing I knew, it was getting dark and I could barely find the trail anymore! Luckily I was able to find the camp. The fire’s nice and bright.”

As he approached, he was met with the business end of Warriors’ blade, outstretched and gleaming in the firelight. Sky was still a few paces away, but the threat was clear.

“What the hell, Warriors?!” That was Wind, rising to his feet, furious.

“Sorry, Wind, I’m just a little suspicious of people wandering into our camp like this. We know there’s a kidnapper on the loose, and I’ve fought my fair share of doppelgangers.”

“Doppel-who’s?”

“Doppelgangers, copies, duplicates, darks, whatever you want to call them. They look just like people you know, allies, friends, anyone. Sometimes you can tell by looking at them because they’re shadowy or silhouettes, but other times they look nearly identical.”

“Like a dark copy of yourself,” Hyrule added, rising to his feet as well. Sky didn’t miss the reflected firelight on his sword that was just a little too bright.

“A Dark Link.” Legend, too, rose to his feet. “We haven’t had combat in far too long. We’re getting so close to Arbiter’s Grounds, too. I thought it was strange that we hadn’t faced a single enemy the whole entire time we were in this desert. I’ve been itching for a fight.”

“Wait!” Sky waved his hands in a panic. “I’m not a Dark, I promise! How can I prove that I’m your comrade?”

Warriors narrowed his eyes. “You have the Master Sword, correct?”

Sky nodded vigorously, reaching for it, but freezing when he saw everyone flinch in response.

“May… may I draw it?”

Warriors nodded. “Slowly.”

Sky did as instructed, the Master Sword sliding smoothly from its sheath. He rested the blade on his other hand, holding it out as a peace offering.

Warriors stepped closer, eyeing the blade mistrustfully.

Sky felt ice slide down his back. His breathing hitched. What if he wasn’t good enough? What if they actually thought he was evil? What if they tried to fight him? He wouldn’t even be able to point his sword in their _direction_ , let alone parry any of their strikes. He was completely at their mercy. If they chose to attack, he was as good as dead.

“She’ll burn your hands if you try and use it against one of us,” Legend offered, “but I guess if that _is_ actually Sky, then we’d just end up taking his head off. Also one of us would get burned. So bad idea, probably.”

“You think?” Hyrule elbowed Legend scoldingly. Legend shrugged.

“It’s definitely the right blade. There’s no way a Dark could come in contact with such a holy weapon. Sorry about that, Sky. Truly. I guess we’re all just a little on edge. But that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“No, no, really it’s okay. It was awfully suspicious of me to come back to camp so late, anyway. It would honestly be pretty irresponsible if you just blindly trusted me. I’m glad to have such vigilant comrades.”

Warriors smiled, clapping Sky on the back.

“Dinnertime!” Wild called from his position by the fire, a very large, very much red and glowing and possibly on fire sword by his side.

Yeah if they chose to attack him—for any reason—he was a goner.

Time and Twilight returned to the group at Wild’s call, Twilight noticeably stopping by his bedroll before heading to the campfire. So Time had given it to him after all.

Sky let his eyes follow the Old Man as he dished up his meal. He needed to scan for anything off, anything at all. Any odd mannerisms, anything unusual, anything at all.

It didn’t take long. For the second time in as many days, Time was the one to start their dinnertime conversations. He was usually the quietest, along with Smithy. How had he not _realized_ this?

“You boys are really something else, you know that?”

Kindness. That was something. Wind had been kinder, Wild more open, Sky had been too much of an _idiot_ to pay any attention to Warriors, but he _knew_ that these kinds of weird, cryptic compliments were a common thread.

“We’ve been through so much together, and I don’t think I’ve ever really told you all how proud I am of you.”

Again, after everything, why was he feeling the need to say these kinds of things _now_? A new sense of urgency, check.

“Because I am. So proud. Of each and every one of you for everything that you’ve done, before and during our time as a group. I couldn’t ask for a better family.”

Touching, touching. But Malon was Time’s family. And they were probably going to have kids someday, right? But no, no joking comment about kids _or_ Malon. Strange. 

He started saying something to Wild. Sky tried to focus, to tune in, to listen, to _think_ , but _dammit,_ his head felt like it was filling up with cotton. This was _important,_ so why couldn’t he pay attention?

Was it the sleep deprivation? He hadn’t really been paying attention to meals anymore. Had he been eating enough? Was it the stress? _Hylia dammit,_ the words were entering his head but they didn’t make any _sense_ and he was looking at Time and Wild but he didn’t _see_ them, not really. Their facial expressions were a blur. All he could think about was how much he needed to be thinking about focusing on them but he couldn’t and _he was missing valuable evidence, why couldn’t he focus, what was WRONG with him?_

Breathe.

It was getting harder and harder these days.

“And Sky,”

Sky’s head shot up, him making eye contact with Time, trying to blink away the fog.

“You care so much, Sky, about all of us. It’s truly amazing to see you go out of your way to help and talk to anyone who you think might need it. I know it’s hard sometimes, and it’s stressful to look after so many others. Please don’t forget about yourself. You can’t help anyone if you’re falling apart. And just like you help everyone else when they’re struggling, they’re here to help you as well. You don’t have to fight this fight alone. Really, Sky. You’re _not_ alone in this. You can always come to your brothers here for help.”

He nodded, trying to accept the compliment at face value, but as Time continued on to the next hero he was complimenting, Sky started mentally tearing it to shreds.

_The first bit seems normal enough. People seem to be confusing my investigating for caring, so that’s good for keeping me out of the suspicion of anyone who may be watching. The obligatory take care myself spiel, telling me I’m not alone, but wait._

Wait.

Time didn’t say “us.”

He did at first, but he said Sky could always come to his brothers for help. That was third person. That didn’t include Time. Why didn’t Time include himself? Why didn’t Time want Sky to come to him for help? He’d done that last night as well, saying “open up to _them_ ” instead of “open up to _us._ ”

Why had he excluded himself from that?

And he was getting rid of his masks…

Urgency…

What was he _planning?_

Oh, Sky was _not_ sleeping tonight, he was going to watch and see what happened when it switched.

What was Time going to do?

Time evidently finished up his speech, Wind tackling him in a side-hug and the others joining in, some more reluctantly than others. Sky thought he saw tears in the corners of Smithy’s eyes.

Touching, probably.

Sky found himself dragged towards the group-hug, watching Time’s face carefully. He looked so fond, so at peace, but so, so sad. And regretful. 

The same face Wild had made.

The group hug broke up, Sky heading to his sleeping bag as they dispersed, trying to keep tabs on Time. 

Soon after, his view was broken by Legend, squatting down by Sky’s side.

“Hey, Sky.”

“Hey.”

“I, uh, wanted to apologize. For the taking-your-head-off comment.”

Sky felt his eyebrows creep up his forehead.

“Oh, uh, no worries. I’d completely forgotten about that, actually.”

Legend hummed, thinking.

“Sky, can I see your wrists?”

Sky froze.

“My whats?”

“Your wrists.”

“O… kay?”

Pulling off his gloves and armguards, he rolled up his sleeves, holding his bare wrists out before Legend.

The veteran softly held them, turning them back and forth slightly, looking for something. Eventually, he decided that Sky’s wrists were satisfactory and let go, humming softly to himself.

“Sorry about that. I just wanted to make sure.”

Of what? Did Legend think he was—oh. Oh _no_.

Did Legend think he was _cutting himself_?

Hylia, why did they all _care_ so much about him? One second they were pointing a sword at his throat and the next, they were mother-henning him to no end. He couldn’t win!

But he didn’t need to win. He just needed everyone else to be okay.

“I’m okay, Legend. Really. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Legend stood up, pulling at his tunic. “Don’t believe that for a second. If there’s anything I can do—”

“I’ll be sure to tell you right away.”

Legend inhaled, clearly at war with himself, but he sighed, evidently deciding not to press.

Sky scanned the campsite for Time. He spotted the Old Man, sitting with the others around the campfire. Laughing, talking, chatting. Being together.

Had Sky been tasked with watching Time all night a month ago, he wouldn’t have lasted five minutes.

Luckily, things had changed.

After more games and conversations between the others, they all settled into bed, Hyrule taking his position by the campfire for watch. It looked like he was mending a tear in his tunic as he waited. Sky’s sleeping bag was far from the fire, but even from across the campsite he could see that Hyrule’s stitches were lopsided and messy. 

It was kind of cute.

The edges of the horizon darkened, the last vestiges of light flickering out. Shadows shifted, the warm ochre glow of the campfire their only bane, and the light played on Hyrule’s silhouette, making him waver, ripple, and dance.

Sky watched, his eyes growing dry and blurry. 

He watched.

The day’s events played on loop in his head, analyzing every movement, every word.

He watched.

His eyes burned.

He started needing to close his eyes for longer and longer periods to stop the burning.

Hyrule stood up, the stars really bright or something, Sky didn’t _care_ anymore. Time hadn’t moved. He was an astonishingly still sleeper, not rustling or squirming like the others.

Hyrule crouched by Warriors’ sleeping bag. Sky closed his eyes, faking slumber. 

He peeked them open again, watching Warriors’ silhouette make its way to the campfire.

Sky heard a quiet, pained moan from somewhere to his left.

He didn’t move.

Warriors did, hearing the sound and moving over to its source. Wild.

Warriors knelt down by the Champion’s bedroll, pulling off his scarf and draping it over Wild’s stirring form.

After a few minutes, it slowed to a still.

Warriors made his way back to the campfire, taking his seat again.

And then he slouched.

Now that was unlike him.

He leaned off to one side, catching himself for a moment, before lowering himself down to the ground anyway.

He was still.

Silent.

Had Warriors… fallen asleep on watch?

That was… not impossible, but about as likely as Hyrule cooking something edible.

So impossible.

But _how_?

Then, he could feel it. A chilling, pressing presence. Like a faint odor, not enough to suffocate, but enough to make Sky shiver where he lay.

Sky remained perfectly still, laying on his side, his eye facing up closed, leaving only a small sliver of vision from his other eye.

“Hmm,” a simple yet eerie voice drawled out. It was breathy, almost insubstantial, but still holding an edge, a bite to it. A dark, intelligent lilt.

“So easy to manipulate. It’s almost boring.”

 _Holy Hylia what the hell what the actual f_ — _was this it? Was this him?_

Their enemy?

 _Holy sh*t_.

“A disappointing performance from you, old friend.”

Did he mean Time? Disappointing? The hell?

“You always were my favorite toy. _Well_ …” he drew it out, as if playing with the word in his mouth. “I guess I have no _choice_ but to make things a little more _interesting_ now. What a _nightmare_.”

It did not sound like it would be a nightmare at all. No it sounded like whoever this was was _drinking this up_ and _loving every second of it._

“Hmm. Looks like I’m finally ready for _you_ . I’ve been looking _forward_ to _this_.”

_Who was he referring to?_

There was no sound, not a whisper nor an echo nor a single puff of wind.

It was just silence.

That _voice_. It had lilted like a bantering Warriors, but remained smooth and confident like Legend’s. It was knowing like Time’s, but chilling like an angry Twilight. It was light, though, a terrifying youth to it, like Wind’s or Hyrule’s voices, but it never quite sounded the same, shifting slightly in tone and style like Smithy's. It was a little rough in places, like Wild after he’d spent a whole day exploring and had forgotten to drink anything, and that left Sky wondering what aspect of his own voice had gotten wrapped up in that horrifying familiar voice that he’d never heard before.

He hated it.

But he’d _heard_ it.

This was real. 

This was _real_.

They were close now.

So close.

Warriors stirred, and Sky tried to pretend to relax his muscles.

It shouldn’t be too hard to stay awake after that.


	6. The Ground Beneath Their Feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I was on VC with Pud while working on this chapter and they haven't read any of this fic yet, but they're really scared now because I kept whispering "I'm sorry" under my breath while writing and HOLY CRAP I WENT REALLY HARD THIS TIME, DIDN'T I. I DON'T THINK I'VE EVER GONE THIS HARD BEFORE. I'M SORRY KIDS, MAYBE I'LL BE NICE TO YOU NEXT TIME!!! (probably not, but i like to keep my hopes up)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY SILVER! ENJOY YOUR PAIN!!!  
> Silver is the sweetest lil' bean with a hankering for angst and ho boy I did my best to satiate that, though we all know their thirst is bottomless.
> 
> aaanyway, props to Silver for being the final kick in the backside I needed to get this chapter out! I'M SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT EVERYONE AAAAAAAH!!
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who continued to scream over and comment on this fic while it was on mini-hiatus. It's thanks to you and my wonderful beta Poltea that I've managed to get this far *glances at outline* and boy do we have some exciting stuff to get through!
> 
> With all of that being said, enjoy!
> 
> Or don't >:3c
> 
> so at like,,, 2am yesterday I was working on this and it dawned on me:  
> CHAPTER FIVE WAS A CLIFFIE  
> IT'S BEEN FOUR MONTHS AND I LEFT YOU ON A CLIFFIE  
> I AM SO SORRY
> 
> not like this chapter's any better, but hopefully I'll update sometime before *counts on fingers* may.

Sky was fine.

He was definitely very fine.

Fine.

Stirring tickled at the edges of his hearing as he was alerted to the waking of one of the Links. Turning to look behind him, he scanned the campsite, greeted with the yawning form of Hyrule, his shape grey in the lightening morning. 

_ Hmm. Looks like I’m finally ready for you. I’ve been looking forward to this. _

Someone new, then. Yes, that had to be Twilight, Legend, or Hyrule.

Or Sky.

Time for a self-check. He felt… well, he hadn't slept at all the night before, so that was something to look out for. He hadn't noticed a discernible change in his mental state after that voice had done... whatever it was that it did. He felt… well…

Sky felt a lot of things.

But he didn't particularly feel like dying or inexplicably giving away all of his worldly possessions so it was probably someone else, then.

He almost wished it  _ was _ him that was affected this time around. Actually, that would be great. Because then he'd finally  _ know _ . He'd finally have an  _ answer _ . It would all make  _ sense _ .

But there was no use dwelling on hypotheticals. That had caused him to miss out on valuable information in the past. No, he needed to be as sharp as possible. He couldn't risk a repeat of the last cycle; he’d let Time's valuable information slip through his fingers. No, he wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

He stared off into the distance as if on a vigilant watch, but every ounce of attention was focused on Hyrule.

The traveler sat up, rubbing his eyes and running a hand through his curly, dark locks. Sky could hear Hyrule's heavy, unsteady breathing from his perch on a rock a little ways away. 

A nightmare, then.

Should Sky step in? Provide comfort? People tended to be the most open after nightmares, but if Hyrule knew he was being watched, he might behave differently. If it was indeed Hyrule this time around, Sky would need his pure, unfiltered, initial reaction and his first waking moments. Wild's had been irritation at Wind and Sky. What would it have been if there was silence? Sky could have  _ known _ if he’d only been  _ paying attention _ .

Hyrule's eyes fell over the forms of the sleeping heroes around him. He was scanning. To see if anyone was awake? Probably.

Sky averted his gaze, resolutely staring at the horizon. He was deep in thought, yes definitely, don't mind him, he hadn't even noticed that Hyrule was awake and certainly wouldn't for some time. Carry on, Hyrule.

He felt the traveler's eyes on him. Steady breaths, don't move. Complete disinterest. In the corner of his vision, Sky detected movement. Without moving his head, he flicked his eyes over.

Hyrule was staring at his hand. The back of his left hand. 

It was shaking. 

_ Well _ .

Was there…  _ proof _ ? Some kind of mark on the affected? What did it look like? What did it mean? He couldn't see it, not out of the corner of his eye from halfway across the campsite,  _ dammit, _ but no, this was good, this was a lead. He could work with this. 

If there really was a brand, a mark, some sort of sign on each person, then why hadn't he seen it before? It sure would have been helpful.

Hyrule’s trembling hands reached for something beside his bedroll and ah yes, he pulled on his bracers, hurriedly sliding the dark leather over his comparatively bright forearms.

_ Of course.  _ Sky couldn't help but mentally cackle at that. Of  _ course _ ! Hyrule wore his leather wraps that covered the backs of his hands. Both Twilight and Time wore gloves as well, so of  _ course _ he wouldn't be able to see anything. Sky stared down at his own gloved hands. He began rubbing the leather with his thumb as he thought.

Did every single Link really cover their hands at every waking moment? That seemed awfully convenient.

Warriors did, Wind—

Wind didn't. His wrists were bare. So then  _ why _ , why hadn't he  _ noticed _ , had he really been so caught up in his head that—

_ A slight flash of white could be spotted wrapped around Wind's hand. Did he have that earlier? Sky didn't remember. _

_ "Is that why your hand's been bandaged?" _

Sh*t.

It was so  _ obvious _ now that Wind had been hiding something. The unsure response, the refusal to go to Hyrule about it, of course, of  _ course _ .

Sky stared down at his hands, his gloves now laying lopsided in his lap. He ran his thumbs over the back of his bare wrists. Faint lightning feathers adorned the skin on his right hand. A mark. A parting gift from the battle with Demise. 

A battle that had been for nothing. 

A controlled exhale slipped through his lips.

He consciously lowered his shoulders. Yes, this was his fault. He knew that, he  _ knew _ that. He had other concerns, now. Take it, take it all and fold it up, nice and tidy, tie it with string, a neat little bow, and slide it under the bed, just like that.

We'll deal with it later.

Focus on the present. Hyrule had something on the back of his hand. Something that worried him. Something he wanted to hide. So had Wind, apparently, and  _ Sky hadn't been noticing enough of these little things _ . Had anyone else taken their gloves off for a moment, betraying a flash of whatever it was or had they kept them on, wearing them to bed in an uncharacteristic display of paranoia?

He hadn't  _ noticed _ , he hadn't been  _ paying attention. _

Breathe, take the hatred, the self-loathing, wrap it up, squeeze it down, compress it into a tiny little stone and leave it in the pile with everything else. Focus on the now.

The sky lightened, Hyrule settling into his bedroll uneasily, presumably to introspect about whatever had just happened to him. Okay, fresh cycle. He had to look out for a newfound sense of urgency, giving things away, reckless behavior, general changes in attitude or disposition. He could do this, he could  _ do this _ . Only Smithy had actually clearly attempted anything, but that was at least understandable. There was a reason. Said reason was different for some reason,  _ because you got him involved, _ right, yes, thank you.

But back to what he’d heard the one responsible say last night. Why had it been looking forward to Hyrule specifically?

_ Was _ it Hyrule? All signs pointed to yes, but that's what he'd thought with Twilight. The sun hadn't even risen yet on the first day, there was no way to know anything for sure—it was always like that now, wasn’t it—but also, Hyrule had something on his hands, something worrying, something  _ new _ considering he hadn't worn his bracers to bed with him. Something that Wind had probably had, and possibly everyone else as well. He’d woken up distressed. 

He wouldn't let himself get too confident that he was right. He couldn't let confirmation bias cloud his judgement. Right now Hyrule was a likely candidate, nothing more. 

If, hypothetically, it  _ was _ Hyrule, then why would their enemy be excited about targeting him?

Who was their enemy?

Sky thought back to that voice, that achingly familiar but wholly unnatural voice. His mind flickered to Warriors' words from the night before.

_ Doppelgangers, copies, duplicates, darks, whatever you want to call them. They look just like people you know, allies, friends, anyone. Sometimes you can tell by looking at them because they’re shadowy or silhouettes, but other times they look nearly identical. _

Familiar, yet dark. Enemies, like a dark copy of yourself.

Could that be their enemy? A Dark... of all of them? What were these Dark Links? Where did they come from? Did  _ Sky _ have a Dark? 

What Sky  _ did _ have was a couple of questions for Warriors.

Hyrule had been familiar with the idea of a Dark. He'd mentioned it once before, an eternity ago. A scar on his abdomen, _ impaled by a shadow in my likeness. Everything I gave he returned right back. _

A formidable opponent? A composite of all of them?

Sky shuddered at the thought.

_ What the hell were they up against? _

Every question only led to more questions with no end in sight. Sky needed to talk to Hyrule, to see if he could glean any other clues from the hero or at least confirm that it was, in fact, him. He'd need to ask Warriors about Darks—or should he? Would that paint a target on Warriors' back? No, Warriors had already been affected. Besides, it was a simple curious question. But maybe their enemy wouldn't want its nature to be revealed, especially not to the one with the Master Sword. 

Why did it have to be  _ him _ ? Why couldn't he be the  _ victim _ , living in blissful ignorance? Why did he—the most incompetent of them all—have to be the only one who could resist this? The only one with the Master Sword?

Hell, giving the weapon away wasn't even really an option, anyway. He was the only witness that he could be sure was reliable anymore.

He flinched as the sun peaked above the distant mesas, a ray of light striking Sky in the eye and snapping him from his thoughts.

The day had begun.

Once again, this was his burden to bear, and his alone. If he were to ask Warriors about these Darks, he'd have to do it discreetly. But right now, the focus was on confirming that it was, in fact, Hyrule who was being affected this cycle.

He pulled himself shakily to his feet and made his way to Wild's sleeping bag, jostling the cook's shoulder.

The two started on breakfast. Sky ran through his list of questions, thinking if there was anything he would be able to learn from talking to Wild, and came up blank.

He had nothing to gain by speaking, so he kept his silence. Hyrule laid silently in his bedroll, but Sky doubted he was actually asleep. Hyrule and Wild were close, though. Would Hyrule come and sit by the cooking fire with Wild? Chat like old times? Like he had just the other day?

Sky helped Wild make breakfast, all the while waiting for Hyrule to walk over and join them.

He never did.

The sun continued to rise, various Links stirring and joining the duo by the fire, Hyrule remaining in his bedroll until after Wind had woken up, which was uncharacteristic; Hyrule was almost always one of the first ones awake. Eventually he took his place with the group, though he seemed absent, lost in thought, like he was wrestling with something in his mind. It was all looking good so far.

Legend and Warriors were at it again, this time the topic seemed to be somehow related to Warriors' taste in women. Twilight looked like he had a bit of a mental burden at the moment, eating very little and not engaging much in conversation. Granted, he'd been like that for a while and he had an actual, logical reason to be feeling that way. He was probably fine.

Were there really only the three left? Warriors sat by Legend, shooting out a snarky comment, the same bite of snark that  _ that voice _ had had. Wind ate eagerly, watching the squabble unfold in front of him and pitching in occasional affirmations and goadings as Wild dished up his own bowl of breakfast. Four sat in silence but the wavering smile on his lips held promise. Time rolled his eye fondly at the group's antics from his seat by the fire.

What have you  _ seen _ ?

What  _ happened _ to you?

Why are you  _ okay _ ?

Why did it  _ choose _ to make you  _ okay _ ?

Sky let his eyes fall onto Hyrule's hands, watching the way the leather slid over his skin as they moved. There must be a way to convince him to take them off, right? He couldn't just ask to see Hyrule's hands like Legend had to Sky, could he? Not when Hyrule actually had something to hide. Besides, he was trying to keep suspicion  _ off _ himself. What could be a good excuse? He stared at the garments as if he could somehow discern their secrets from the creases in the material. They were worn, very worn, the thick, dark thread that held them together was clearly fraying in some places and it looked like a stitch had been picked loose, probably a result of him worrying it with his hands. They really weren't in the best condition at all.

Perhaps Sky could offer to mend them? Or at least convince him to get Legend to mend them. Anything to get them off of his wrists. 

That seemed valid. Perfectly reasonable.

Hyrule finished eating first, laying his bowl by the cooking pot and making his way back to his bedroll. Sky couldn't just get up and walk over  _ now _ , could he? He'd need to do it casually. He felt his leg begin to bounce in anticipation. Why did he have to  _ wait _ ? Hell, why did he have to sneak around and try to figure this stuff out in the first place? Why wouldn't anyone  _ say _ anything? Then this all would have been solved  _ ages _ ago! 

But no, perhaps it was something like what Sky was going through. Some sort of threat, a promise to kill or harm anyone they told. That should easily be enough to buy their silence. If that was the case, was it even a good idea to try and get information directly from Hyrule himself? Maybe he could glean something based on how he refused to answer, at the very least.

Eventually, the group split up to pack up their things and Sky let himself be pulled by his insatiable thirst to just let this all be  _ done _ to Hyrule's bedroll, crouching slowly by his side where he was packing up his stuff.

"Hey, Hyrule."

"Oh, uh, hey, Sky."

It was the first time Sky had heard him speak that day aside from a muttered thanks.

"Oh, wow," Sky pretended to get distracted by the stitching on Hyrule's bracers as if he'd had something else he'd meant to say, "those sure are beat up." He reached out to touch them, waiting for Hyrule to pull his hand away.

The traveler did, rubbing the back of his left hand with his right—probably subconsciously—and stuttering out a response. 

"Oh, yeah, they are. I've had them for both of my adventures. They've seen a lot of action."

Sky tried to smile. "And have you ever mended them once? Look at the state they're in!"

Hyrule fiddled with them more, tucking his left hand into his bag as if he was trying to grab something, but leaving it suspiciously still. 

"They seem fine to me. Really, Sky, you don't have to worry about it."

Of course he didn't. Oh, no, no need to worry about little ol' Hyrule and his stupid bracers  _ take them off or so help me— _

Sky didn't mentally finish that threat, but he was certainly getting fed up with how difficult everyone was making this for him. 

"I'm not worried per se, I just care about you and want to make sure your stuff is in good condition! Come on, it won't take too long."

"No, Sky, really, you don't have to waste your time on me. It's fine."

"Okay, maybe it's fine to you, but the loose threads have been bothering me. Honestly, I  _ want _ to fix them! I was bored on my watch shift last night. It'd give me something to do."

Hyrule continued to rifle aimlessly through his stuff. "I'm sorry that the threads are bothering you. If you want to mend them so bad, you can do it on your next watch shift, if that's when you'll be working on them. You can have them then."

_ Damn _ . That was Sky's excuse completely knocked on its rear. But he couldn't wait that long and he certainly couldn't backpedal now. Hyrule had completely and thoroughly shot him down.

Okay, then. It was time for Plan B.

What was Plan B?

There had to be one, right? Another way to get him to take them off? It shouldn't be that hard. Sky thought as he began packing up his own gear. He definitely wouldn't be taking them off to sleep and they were in the desert so it wasn't like he'd bathe. He wouldn't agree to get them fixed, no, there had to be a way to get him to remove them. They didn't even cover his fingers or palm at all, so he could perform basically all of his tasks with them on. The only reason he'd need to take them off is if they were somehow broken beyond use or he had some reason that he'd need to see the skin of the back of his hand or wrist. But how to even do that? If his bracers got wet somehow, would he have to take them off to dry? Possibly, but if Hyrule's insistence in wearing them was any indication, he'd probably keep them on anyway. Besides, Sky didn't know if they even had enough water to properly soak Hyrule's bracers. It wasn't foolproof. The only way to take them off, Sky mused as the group finished packing up and began to move out, was to make them no longer wearable.

He thought about the design of the bracers. There was a tube of leather that encircled his forearms, stitched shut over the top of his wrist, with a single triangular section that covered the back of his hand fastened to his middle finger via a small strap. If that strap broke, then there would be nothing holding the leather to the back of his wrist. That seemed pretty straightforward. So how to go about doing that?

Doing it in Hyrule's sleep was probably a bad idea—the traveler hero was already a light sleeper as is—and it would take too long. They'd just started walking for the day and every second that passed was one less second in which to get answers out of Hyrule before his cycle ended. Something was happening here and if he missed this, he'd have to start all over again with another three days wasted.

The question had him stumped, so he resorted to doing what his mind always seemed to default to these days: running through his mental list of observations. He'd be giving things away, yes, that was to be expected, there was also a chance he'd end up asking for the Master Swo—

Oh. There was a thought. 

Of course it hadn't occurred to Sky that that could still happen—Four and Time had made clear their feelings on the blade—but to Links with no aversion to or unsavory history with the weapon, it was still a pattern to want to try using it.

If Hyrule went for the Master Sword, though, that still wouldn't do anything. Yes, Sky could get something into Hyrule's hands, but it wasn't like that particular something was capable of breaking a piece of leather.

Wait.

When he'd accidentally raised his blade against Legend, that day in the forest when the veteran had been stuck as a pink rabbit—maybe he'd someday be able to put his newfound investigative abilities to work to figure out how exactly that had happened—the sword had seared through his leather gloves and straight to his skin. He'd had to buy new ones when they'd gotten to the next town. If Hyrule were to wield the Master Sword and somehow accidentally swing it at another Link, Sky'd be golden.

With Sky's plan shaping up, he scanned the trail for the traveler hero. He was walking a little ways ahead of Sky, talking with Legend. If Sky could manage to catch up to the pair, offer the sword to Hyrule, and position either himself or Legend in front of the blade, then he'd get a pretty good look at Hyrule's hands. 

He sped his pace, watching the two grow nearer. As they did, Legend glanced back and spotted him, tossing out a casual wave. Sky took that as an invitation to speed up, jogging forward until he reached the pair. He greeted them and Legend continued telling whatever yarn it was that he was spinning. Sky parsed through the conversation, searching for an excuse to bring up the Master Sword. A flash of indigo caught the corner of his eye, drawing his attention. Legend's Master Sword. Of course. Legend had his own Master Sword, too. 

How had he not realized the implications of this sooner?

Legend's looked far different from Sky's, the blade bright orange and the hilt a completely new shape, its color and the triforce emblem the only elements tying the two weapons together. Could Legend hear Fi's voice? Did he know of her existence? Could he do a skyward strike? Was his sword protecting him from being targeted? Legend was a worthy adversary, with too many magic items and abilities for even him to keep track of. If anyone would be hard to curse, it would be Legend. Could Sky confide in him? Was he also able to fend off whatever that Dark had been doing to them?

More questions, so many questions, never an end to the questions, it was time to get  _ answers _ .

Sky waited for a lull in Legend's story to begin speaking. "Say, I've been meaning to ask about your sword."

“Hmm? What about it?”

“Uh, remember, ages ago, when Wild asked me if I could hear the voice?”

Legend considered that for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, you knew the spirit of the sword, right?”

Sky bit the inside of his lip.  _ Knew _ . That hurt more than he’d thought it would. “Yeah.”

Legend’s face immediately softened. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

_ Damn,  _ he was sharp.

Legend shifted awkwardly before continuing. “But to answer your question, I never heard a voice, per se, but I could always feel a sense of companionship, I suppose.” A warm smile spread across his face, the kind seldom seen when he spoke about his past. “I rarely traveled with others, but the sword always felt like an old friend to me. We tempered each other, I suppose.”

His expression was too warm, too genuine. In all likelihood, he wasn’t the affected one. But still, Sky couldn’t ignore the quiet sip of peace he felt knowing that Fi’s warmth somehow survived all the—Hylia, it must have been millenia—between them. 

“You said you tempered it?”

“Yeah, a couple of times. I hope you don’t mind or anything.”

“Oh, what? No, I tempered the Goddess Sword to make it the Master Sword, so it’s totally okay.”

In the corner of his eye, Sky could see Hyrule looking on curiously. Good.

“How, uh, how powerful is yours? You mentioned using it to break curses?”

Hyrule’s attention was certainly captured by that statement. Yes, he was most certainly in the curse-breaking business at the moment, it seemed.

“Yeah, I’ve done my fair share of demon-slaying with it, why?”

“Uh, no reason. I’m glad she still… works.”

Legend eyed him dubiously. 

Hyrule cut in, diffusing the tension.

“Hey, uh, I know I’ve held it—her?—before, but uh…” he trailed off, and Sky tried to smile warmly and keep the manic in. 

“Of course, Hyrule. She’s all yours.”

He drew the Master Sword from her sheath, letting the flawless metal smoothly slide free. He held her out, blade carefully down as he angled the handle towards Hyrule, who accepted it gratefully.

Sky’s heart rate tripled the second the blade was pulled from his hands. For a multitude of reasons. He scanned the area warily, trying to determine the best way to—what was he doing again?—oh, yes, trip in front of the Master Sword while Hyrule was swinging it. This was fine. 

Hyrule didn’t notice Sky’s panic, instead too entranced by the blade in his hands, wasting no time in doing a quick horizontal slash, one that Sky carefully intercepted with a well-timed trip. 

Hyrule screamed.

Sky froze, still leaning forward from where he caught himself, staring at the sword laying in the sand on the ground in front of him. 

“Hyrule, are you okay?!” Legend rushed to the hero’s side, hands outstretched to help.

_ No! _ Legend couldn’t interfere! Sky  _ had _ to see what was on Hyrule’s hand!

He turned, quickly sliding to his knees by Hyrule’s side, under the pretense of helping him, eyes glued to his hand. 

While the leather strap fastened around Hyrule’s middle finger was indeed charred and no longer attached to his hand, the flap of leather that reached up over the back of his hand was still in place.

“Oh, Hylia, let me take a look at that,” Sky reached out, trying to hold Hyrule’s burned hand in his own.

“ _ Get away from me _ !” he shouted, scrambling back towards Legend.

Sky gasped, frozen, Legend’s eyes narrowing in confusion as he glanced between Hyrule and Sky. Sky shouldn’t have been surprised by Hyrule’s outburst. Deep down, he didn’t think he was. It was unlike Hyrule to lash out at anyone, but he couldn’t blame Hyrule for hating him. After all, Hyrule’s worlds was one of the worst off out of all of them, all because of  _ Sky’s mistake. _

Legend let Hyrule press his back against him, supporting him with one arm while he directed his attention to Hyrule’s hand. Sky could only stare at it  _ begging _ for a glimpse, when, as Legend was reaching to take it, the leather fell back slightly and Sky was able to catch a black number, bold and dark, inscribed over a blood-red triforce.

58

Fifty-eight?  _ What? _

He was jarred from his thought process by Hyrule’s panicked eye contact, the pair each making the realization that the other  _ knew _ . Hyrule hurriedly slapped his free hand over the back of the burned one, shaking his head slightly, rapidly, from side to side. Legend continued looking at Hyrule’s hand, trying to pry his right hand loose so he could slip a ring onto it, and it took too long for Hyrule to finally oblige. Legend inspected the burn—and there most certainly was a burn alright, red and angry—and reached for a bandage from the pouch on his hip.

Sky snatched up the Master Sword, clutching it close and rushing to his feet, stepping back, eye contact maintained before Sky broke it, staring off into the distance.

“Uh—” Sky was about to make some hurried excuse and rush away out of shame and confusion, but Legend interrupted him.

“Sky, please stay put. I’d hate for us to get ambushed like this.” His tone left no room for argument, but was soft in a way that revealed that he  _ knew _ something was up with the other two heroes.

Sky reluctantly nodded, slowly resheating the Master Sword and wringing his hands.

“I—I’m sorry about that, Hyrule. Really.”—no he wasn’t, but Hyrule seemed upset—“She burned you to avoid hurting me. She burned me once, too, when I almost attacked Legend.” The veteran nodded in confirmation at Hyrule’s questioning glance. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, leaning into Legend who was crouched next to him, wrapping his hand in bandages.

“No, actually, you’re not. This burn is  _ nasty _ . I don’t want to see you  _ touching _ a sword for a week. At  _ least. _ ”

Hyrule started at that, broken from his thoughts by staring at Legend, aghast.

“Are you  _ kidding _ me? Do you realize how close we are to Arbiter’s Grounds? Just let me heal it.”

Legend frowned. “Usually I’d be completely against that, but you might actually have a point.” He glanced in the direction of Arbiter’s Grounds despite the fact that they couldn’t actually see it from the small mesa they were hiking around.

“Fine. But I still don’t want you to do anything with it for at least three days.”

Hyrule looked off to the side.

“ _ Okay? _ ”

“It’s fine.”

Legend cocked his head.

“I don’t need to heal it, actually. I’ll wait a week.”

“Good,” Legend rose to his feet, clearly confused. He turned towards Sky. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Sky might have flinched—he wasn’t sure—but nodded reluctantly, Hyrule flexing his hand slightly under his newly fastened bandages and wincing from the pain.

Legend pulled Sky aside as Hyrule rose slowly to his feet.

“I wasn’t going to get involved with whatever you’ve got going on,” Legend muttered, leaning in, “but this, this behavior,  _ isn’t _ okay.” He made eye contact with Sky, glare icy. “I’ve tried to keep my distance and give you the space you need, but Hyrule is hurt.  _ Bad. _ Days before an important battle. If he hadn’t been burned because the sword almost hit you, I might get suspicious, but at least you have that much going for you.” He sighed. “Look, I don’t want to be the bad guy. Really. But something is going  _ on _ , Sky, and we need to know what it is. You might think this isn’t about us, but it is now.”—oh, Legend, this was always about them—you—all of you. That’s all it’s ever been about. This is  _ nothing _ compared to what he’s trying to  _ prevent _ , don’t you  _ see?— _ “I know by now that you’re not going to talk when people ask you nicely,” his stare hardened, “but they might not be asking nicely much longer.”

Legend patted him on the back absentmindedly, trying to diffuse some of the hostility.

Sky opened his mouth, but closed it again, unable to express that he  _ can’t _ tell them. He just  _ can’t. _

“This conversation isn’t over,” Legend said, voice low, as he turned back towards Hyrule. “Are we ready to get moving again?”

Hyrule nodded, and the trio was off. Sky wanted to hang back and let them pull ahead, but Legend very clearly deliberately waited next to Hyrule for Sky to go in front.

He wanted to keep an eye on him.

Sky relented, taking the lead and walking in front of the pair. This wasn’t even that bad, right? Hyrule was a little burned, but they’d all had worse. What was Legend making such a big deal over?

_ I wasn’t giving you what you wanted to get out of me, so you betrayed me. _

Sky started at that, tensing up as he walked.

This was different. Twilight was sticking his nose into business that wasn’t about him. This was  _ important _ . This was  _ life-threatening _ . 

This was different. He wasn’t  _ betraying _ Hyrule, he was doing this  _ for _ him. He didn’t understand. None of them  _ understood _ .

He had bigger problems.

_ Fifty-eight. _

What could it  _ mean? _

Was it some sort of counter? What was it counting?

People were acting off, they were losing memories, and they were giving precious possessions away. It was  _ wrong _ but there wasn’t any real pattern other than everything essentially resetting every three days.

_ Has it happened before? _

Dear f*cking Hylia no. 

No.

_ No. _

Fifty-eight times?

Was that fifty-eight times one of them had been affected, meaning Warriors would have been fifty-three, or was it… fifty-eight times that  _ all _ of them had been affected. Fifty-eight  _ full _ cycles. 

Sky stopped in his tracks, but quickly broke into a stumbling walk when he remembered who was behind him.

It couldn’t be. It  _ wasn’t _ .

It didn’t make any sense—Vio was  _ dead _ . That could only happen once. It wasn’t like Four used to be Five, was it? Or did Vio end up reappearing somehow, meaning the cycle could repeat?

But no, Four  _ knew _ when Vio was dead. That couldn’t be faked, could it?

He guessed he wouldn’t find out until they reached Arbiter’s Grounds and saw for themselves. 

No. There had to be something else. Another way. What else could the number be? If it was indeed a counter, what was it counting? There had to be something else to keep track of rather than the number of cycles. Sky himself had been  _ living _ in threes. Three days, it was always three days over and over and  _ over and over _ —did it have something to do with that?

Hyrule had seen it. He’d looked at the number and been shocked. It  _ meant _ something to him. Was Hyrule aware of the three day limit? It seemed those affected usually were. Could that have been how Smithy knew Vio was gone? Wind had left his Wind Waker with Sky’s stuff. Wild had left the Sheikah Slate with Legend. Time had told them all how proud he was of them. They definitely knew what the last day of the cycle was, and they were all trying to do…  _ something _ before that time ran out. Three days. But what could that possibly have to do with fifty-eight? It didn’t go into three evenly at all, but granted, they were already a few hours into Hyrule’s first day. It was probably two hours after midday by now.

Hours.

There were seventy-two hours in three days. So if they were—he counted on his fingers—fourteen hours into the day, then seventy-two minus fourteen was…

Fifty-eight.

He really hoped that was the case.

He really did.

“ _ DAMN IT! _ ”

Sky flinched at Legend’s sudden cry, trying to school his face into something not-panic-stricken. He turned to face the veteran, who’d just smacked his leg in frustration.

“Are… you okay?” Hyrule asked, clearly still on edge.

“I just had the  _ perfect _ roast for that conversation a few days ago about the biggest thing we ever fought!”

Hyrule raised an eyebrow and Sky shot him a glance.

“The biggest thing I’ve ever fought is  _ Warriors’ ego! _ Gah, I have to deal with that sh*t every damn day!”

Despite himself, Hyrule cackled at that, leaning against Legend as he laughed. Sky turned back forward, wanting nothing more than to burst into tears. But he couldn’t. He had to do this. He had to be strong.

They arrived at camp that evening.

Wild beckoned Sky towards his cooking pot, but Legend pulled the Chosen Hero aside before he could get to Wild, grabbing his wrist and tugging him a little ways from camp, just out of sight.

“Sit down.”

Sky did, crossing his legs and avoiding eye contact with Legend.

“Sky, look at me.”

Sky tried, but the second his eyes met Legend’s, he could feel the other hero staring straight through him. How much had he figured out by now? 

He’d managed to shake off Twilight by telling him about Smithy, but that wasn’t really going to work here. Legend had gotten involved because of Hyrule. Sky knew something was up with the traveler, and telling the others that Four wasn’t okay hadn’t gotten them hurt. Maybe if he just told Legend the bare minimum, maybe that could keep another pair of eyes on Hyrule for him, so he could focus more energy towards taking care of Four. This could work. 

Sky sighed, pretending to give in.

“What do you want to know?”

Legend angled his head up higher, squinting at Sky a little distrustfully. 

“Today. Was tripping into the Master Sword an accident.”

Sky sucked in a breath and let it out. Lying here would be useless. Not with Legend staring through him like that. But he could still twist it with a few clever half-truths and protect Legend.

“No.”

Legend’s face snapped down to fully meet Sky’s, his eyes locked on like daggers.

“You wanted to burn his hand?”

“That wasn’t my primary goal. I needed him to take off his bracers.”

Legend’s eyes narrowed.

“Why?”

Sky had a few angles here. Telling Legend about the black number was out of the question because it would directly connect to the three day cycle, which was what had gotten Smithy hurt. If he could get Legend to mother hen over his successor, perhaps because of a mysterious blood-red Triforce, then, well, Sky wasn’t complaining. Was the red Triforce relevant, though? And would getting Legend curious about it mean he might end up seeing the number? No, judging by the look on the kid’s face, Hyrule wouldn’t let anyone else see it. In that sense, the traveler was working in his favor. All he had to do was send Legend on a wild goose chase over Hyrule’s Triforce symbol. Hopefully, by the time he got anywhere, Hyrule’s cycle would be over and everything would reset and be fine and nobody would be any the wiser. He just had to hold out until they reached Arbiter’s Grounds. 

Then he’d put an end to it.

“I had to see the back of his hand. He always keeps it covered, but I knew something was wrong.”

“Wrong enough to burn his hand? Make him unable to defend himself? Enough to put him in danger?”

Sky stared right back at Legend. “He still has his magic. He’s by no means defenseless. Besides, Legend,” he tried to make his eyes bore right back into Legend, “Hyrule’s Triforce marking, on the back of his left hand, it’s  _ blood-red. _ ”

Legend’s eyebrows shot up at that and he visibly flinched, staring off into the distance, the gears clearly turning in his head. Now that Sky thought about it, Legend might blame himself for this, think that Hyrule’s red Triforce and his obvious fear surrounding it are somehow Legend’s fault. If it kept Legend off Sky’s case, at least for a little while, it was all he needed.

“Were you planning on telling anyone about this?” Legend looked away again, thinking, “a red Triforce? What could this mean, for Hyrule  _ and _ his time?”  _ for my future _ remained unsaid, but Sky could tell it was there nonetheless. He stood up, brushing sand from his tunic. He had to get out of here before Legend started questioning why he’d burnt Hyrule’s hand in the first place if he didn’t know about the Triforce until after, or started asking about any of Sky’s other behavior he’d apparently picked up on before.

“You’ll have to take that up with him.”

Legend grumbled to himself. “I don’t care if I’m the worst hypocrite in the world for saying this, but I’m really starting to get sick of all the secrets around here.”

Sky froze, letting Legend walk right past him, and tried to hold back a laugh. If only he knew.

Sky had helped Wild finish up dinner and the group had all sat around the small, weak fire, eating their fill, though Legend picked at his meal. Twilight shifted a little where he sat before asking, in the softest voice he’d heard from the rancher yet: “Four? Who was Vio?”

Smithy froze, his fork halfway between his food and his face, and returned it slowly to his dish.

Smithy opened his mouth, and Sky could have sworn that he was about to ask Twilight to call him Smithy instead, but he didn’t say anything, closing it silently. Should Sky step in and correct Twilight? That might draw unwanted attention to himself. He remained silent.

“It’s only been four days,” Wild broke in, quiet, “give him time.”

“This is relevant, though, to all of our safety,” Warriors countered, “someone who knows where we are and can reach us just ransomed and… murdered someone close to Four. We need to know if this can happen again, and who else might be in danger.”

Wind didn’t say anything, sitting down by Smithy’s side and holding onto his arm in a silent show of support.

“Four,” Legend started, voice uncharacteristically warm, “we’ve all lost people before. We understand what you must be going through right now, and we’re here for you. But we can’t help you if we don’t know anything. You can tell us, Four—”

“No, you  _ don’t  _ understand!” Smithy snapped, rising to his feet in a rush and shaking Wind off, his bowl falling to the ground by his side. “ _ None  _ of you understand!”

“Four, we’re the only people who  _ do  _ understand,” Warriors tried to add, ever one to try and pull the group together.

Smithy barked out a sharp laugh.

“Smithy…” Sky started, trying to calm him a little.

“ _ Don’t think you’re any better! _ ” 

At his own outburst, Smithy gasped, sitting back down quickly, and staring off to the side like he couldn’t believe what he’d just said. He tried to breathe, slowly, visibly calming himself, and he brushed his arm gently against Wind’s, who latched on again, weaving his fingers through the smithy’s own.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s okay, Four,” Wild soothed, smiling softly, but there was hesitation in his eyes. “It takes a while to get used to having others to rely on, especially after being alone so long.”

Smithy didn’t respond, but Sky could see a veil lowering somewhere behind his eyes. Wind quickly managed to divert attention from Smithy, telling some story, and Sky could clearly see the smithy’s fingers slacken in Wind’s grip.

Something had changed.

The meal passed, everyone respectfully backing off from Smithy—Sky would really appreciate it if he received the same courtesy—and they settled in for the night.

Sky laid down in his bedroll, and before he could start to consider his next course of action, sleep had taken him as its unwilling prisoner.

  
  


Sky dredged himself up from the murky lakebed of unconsciousness and was met with sand, dry air, and a crushing sense of duty, desperation, and self-hatred.

The usual, then.

Arbiter’s Grounds loomed ahead, its golden pillars now close enough to well and truly tower over them. The crest of Hylia flared out around each of the medallion-like symbols and it was beginning to feel like she was taunting them. But no, he would accept this. It was what he deserved. 

It seemed that there would only be a day, according to Twilight, until they reached the slot canyon that would then blossom into an open area that, in his experience, was always packed with Bulbin archers. Sky could tell that the others were itching for a fight—going so long without one was clearly making them antsy—and the shooting gallery of mindless enemies was sure to be a welcome distraction. 

The group made their way through the desert, ankles sore from the shifting sands and water supply starting to become worrisome, but morale was higher than it had been, as the end that had loomed intangibly for so long was finally starting to solidify. 

Sky hung back carefully, dodging Legend who was, thankfully, too focused on Hyrule to take much note of him. Smithy walked by himself, also dodging others, and Sky tried to honor that wish in hopes that it would make the others honor his.

What was his game plan now?

It was still Hyrule’s cycle, and now that he thought about it, perhaps getting Legend to obsess over Hyrule wasn’t the wisest choice, as now it would be that much harder for Sky to get answers out of him. In return for losing the ability to talk to Hyrule more freely, though, he had gained an important piece of information: the number.

Those afflicted  _ knew _ that they had seventy-two hours, but the real question was  _ seventy two hours until what? _

They were all trying to do  _ something  _ before their cycle ended. It wasn’t a call for help, no, everyone seemed too desperate to hide what was happening to them.

Was it seventy-two hours until someone close to them died unless they did something, and everyone else had managed where Smithy had failed? But that didn’t make sense. They hadn’t  _ done _ anything. Besides, Sky knew what his allies looked like when someone they cared about was in danger, and the only person to exhibit this behavior was Smithy.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d think it was seventy-two hours left to live.

But no, he hadn’t considered that as an option before because, well, 

_ Why wasn’t anyone dead? _

It was maddening.

Well, it had been maddening for a very long time.

How much longer, then, until Sky went mad?

Well, perhaps he already had.

He was broken from his spiraling thoughts by a sharp tug on his sailcloth. Snapping back to reality, he found Smithy staring off into the distance, one hand fisted in the white fabric. Sky looked down to see another jagged, obsidian scar struck through the desert, this chasm wider than any they’d seen before, but, according to Twilight, not as long. Besides, they weren’t in as much of a rush as they were earlier anyway. He nodded to Smithy gratefully, stepping back from the edge of the canyon. 

On the other side of the crack, Sky could make out the large, ochre boulders crumbling against a lone white arch, one that was beginning to cave under the weight pressing down on it. But arches were strong. They had their keystone, the one piece that held them all together. The more weight pressing down on them, the stronger they became. But the wind, armed with shards of sand, whipped through the channel and whittled away at the stone, turning it brittle until it wasn’t exactly clear what was holding it up at all. It was only a matter of time, Sky supposed, until the little white arch came crashing down. They’d have to get through that canyon before it happened. 

He tuned into the conversation around him, though it sounded more like an argument. Sky could tell, though, that it was just Legend and Warriors bickering, probably in a vain attempt to lighten the mood and provide some sort of sense of normalcy.

“I’m telling you, Wars, you gotta trust my years of experience. The left is absolutely faster.”

“No, Legend, you need a tactician’s eyes. The right is like,  _ half _ the distance.”

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is.”

“Done. Fifty rupees to whoever gets to the other side faster.”

“It’s a bet.”

“What’s going on over here?” Time’s voice cut through the bicker.

“We’re splitting the party because I have to demonstrate my superiority over— _ Legend! _ Hey! No head starts!”

“You better hurry up, then!”

Warriors started jogging in the other direction, shouting back “if you use your pegasus boots, you’re dead! Someone go with him to make sure he doesn’t use them.”

Smithy raised an eyebrow. “I’ll go.”

“Hold on!” Wars shouted, stopping in his tracks. “You  _ also _ have pegasus boots!”

“Fine, then!” Legend laughed, “‘Rule, wanna come with?”

“Sorry, Legend,” he grinned impishly, “but I think Wars’ way is faster.”

He turned to follow the captain, leaving Legend flabbergasted.

The other heroes began to filter off into two groups, Time remarking something about healthy competition and a break from the monotony, but Sky couldn’t think about that because he was faced with an impossible choice:

Left or right?

Legend or Warriors?

Smithy or Hyrule?

Life or answers?

This was his chance to get Hyrule alone, to get some straight answers out of him without Legend anywhere nearby. It was perfect, it was his chance, it was—

Smithy was a danger to himself. Last night, a veil had lowered over his eyes. He’d tried before, he could try again. If he was relapsing into… whatever it was that had been happening in his head since Vio left, then this was  _ dangerous _ . 

But Hyrule… his opening… his  _ answers… _

He stood back and watched as the group split.

Wild and Twilight went with Smithy and Legend, the veteran cheering that there was a local on his side. Wild and Twilight knew about Smithy. Their decision to go with him was no accident. But that still didn’t change the fact that they didn’t know as much as Sky did, they wouldn’t know what to look for, they wouldn’t know what was happening or what to say. They wouldn’t be able to save him like Sky could.

Time and Wind branched off to the right, following Warriors and Hyrule. Wind, Time, and Warriors had always been close. It wouldn’t be hard to slip off with Hyrule and question him. It would also keep him further from Legend, and the less he could have the veteran breathing down his neck, the better.

_ But the Smithy could literally die! Stop your blind crusade for answers and make sure he’s doing alright! How do you know Hyrule’s even going to tell you anything? _

NO! He had to try. He wasn’t going to go on without answers, he wasn’t, he  _ wasn’t _ , don’t you  _ see, _ he was finally  _ getting _ somewhere. He  _ knew _ it was Hyrule’s cycle, he’d just found out about the numbers and Hyrule  _ knew _ . Hyrule  _ knew what was going to happen to him he knew he knew he knew if Sky asked the right questions, HE could know, he could KNOW, he could have ANSWERS, he was so close, just a little more, just a little more, nothing else mattered, nothing but finally KNOWING, so this weight would be lifted, this pressure released, he’d be able to breathe, to see, to smile again, everything would be okay again, he’d be able to sleep, he’d KNOW. _

**_Nothing else mattered._ **

He turned right, jogging to catch up with Hyrule, and Smithy was obscured by the dust the two groups kicked up as they moved.

“Hey, Hyrule, uh, I’m really sorry about the thing with the Master Sword yesterday; is your hand ok?”

Hyrule kept walking, not acknowledging Sky aside from a curt “I’m fine.”

Sky shivered at Hyrule’s tone, but the traveler sighed, his shoulders drooping.

“I—Sorry about that. I’m fine, though, really.”

“Are… are you sure about that? You’ve seemed a little off lately. I was just checking in,” he tried to smile, “you know, as I do.”

Hyrule smiled that  _ damned sad smile they all keep smiling the same f*cking sad smile and it never fails to twist Sky’s heart into knots _ —and replied with a bittersweet “yeah. Yeah, you always do look out for everyone. I’m sorry for lashing out at you yesterday. Really, I am.”

_ They all apologize, they keep apologizing, they yell at him and then they apologize, but I don’t want them to apologize to me, I don’t need it.  _ They could hate him for all he cared, in fact, it would be easier if they hated him because when they were mad, they wouldn’t try and  _ hide _ things from him, they’d let their true colors show and there wouldn’t be this cloak-and-dagger kindness that made everything so hard to puzzle out. As long as they were all okay in the end, whatever happened to Sky wouldn’t matter.

Actually, on second thought, none of it mattered, not really, especially since everything reset every three days anyway. He could say whatever he wanted, and if Hyrule’s memory was going to get wiped in a day and a half, then Sky could really say and do whatever he wanted with no repercussions.

“It’s okay!” Sky insisted with his best attempt at a smile, “I’d already forgotten about it.”

Hyrule seemed to sigh in relief, hoping that Sky had been referring to something else.

He wasn’t.

He slowed his pace, drawing Hyrule to the back of the group, but it wasn’t hard considering Warriors was trying to race a Legend he wasn’t fully convinced wasn’t cheating.

Sky grabbed Hyrule’s shoulder, and the pair stopped.

Sky spun the kid to face him, staring him in the eyes, and the traveler’s wide hazel eyes slowly filled with realization and fear at what Sky was going to ask.

“Hyrule, what happens tomorrow.”

Hyrule twisted his shoulders out of Sky’s grasp and tried to stumble away, but Sky snatched his arm in an iron grip.

The pair stood frozen, face to face. Hyrule had a strength bracelet, and he wasn’t holding back in his squirming, but Sky’s grip was fueled by adrenaline and  _ need _ .

Hyrule glanced up at Sky for a split second and the terror and sadness in the traveler’s eyes shoved their icy fingers into Sky’s chest and  _ squeezed, _ pressing tears against his eyes. 

_ No. _

“...Hyrule?” His voice was small and weak and cracked on the first syllable. “What happens tomorrow?”

The traveler’s eyes met Sky’s and locked onto the wetness steadily growing in them. It was mirrored in his own, and in a flash, the kid had pressed himself into Sky’s arms, crushing him desperately in a hug.

Sky froze, not knowing how to react, his throat tight, but  _ dammit, _ he hugged Hyrule close, burying his face in Hyrule’s hot, sand-filled hair and letting his arms tighten snugly around Hyrule’s still form. Neither of them sobbed or made a sound, and Sky’s fingers, without his consent, began to run through Hyrule’s hair, absently picking out grains of sand. Was there something to say? He was always the group therapist; had he somehow forgotten how to comfort others? Hyrule started to speak, and every ounce of Sky’s focus zeroed in on the child in his arms.

“It’s going to be okay, Sky. I’m taking care of it.”

Sky flinched, stiffening, but Hyrule was already pulling out of the hug. He reached out, sluggishly, caught off-guard by the sudden display of emotion, and watched as Hyrule rushed to catch up with the group, not once looking back.

_ What the hell?! _

_ This is what happens when you let your emotions get in the way! You got distracted! _

Sky broke into a jog, trying to catch up with the others without winding himself in the process.

He reached the group, but Hyrule was situated straight in the center of the other three and showed no signs of leaving.

It wasn’t long before they met up with the others, Legend jumping up and down triumphantly, but a jagged dagger honed to a serrated edge gouged itself between Sky’s ribs as he scanned the group.

Smithy was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Wild.

Warriors opened his mouth to counter one of Legend’s jabs with a retort, but Sky marched up to Twilight and grabbed his shoulders, shaking them, staring the pelted hero dead in the eye.

“ _ Where the f*ck is Smithy. _ ”

Twilight leaned back, hands up placatingly. “He’s with Wild. The two are checking out some ore deposits they found.” Twilight’s face softened. “You should have seen the way Four’s face lit up when he saw them. He looked happier than I’ve seen him in a while.”

Sky let go of Twilight’s shoulders, shoving him to the side and taking off down the other side of the chasm, his eyes locking onto a small mesa that seemed to have a few dark outcroppings resembling ore.

He sprinted along the precipice’s edge, a slumped figure swathed in blue sending shots of adrenaline surging through his veins, spurring him forward, blinded by  _ stupid stupid stupid STUPID!!! YOU LEARNED NOTHING FROM HYRULE AND NOW SMITHY’S GOING TO F*CKING DIE! YOU FAILED! YOU FAILED AGAIN! _

The evening sun kissed the horizon and gold blossomed over the land, shadows streaking out from every rock and dune.

_ No. _

No, he hadn’t failed.

Please don’t tell him he’d failed.

Not yet.

Not just yet, no.

Don’t tell him he was too late.

Not again.

Not again.

He took a split second to confirm that Wild was still breathing and, at the flash of light in the corner of his vision that ripped all the air from his lungs and filled his chest with acid, he skidded around the side of the mesa, scanning the edge of the chasm desperately.

There, balanced on its edge, stood three small figures swathed in dying amber light and dressed in red, green, and blue. Sky sprinted, rushing, barreling,  _ tearing _ his way through the sand, the sand that slipped and slid and skidded like glass dust, sand that erupted into the air in a shimmer of marigold that shifted beneath Sky’s feet as he ran, stumbling forward, his hands brushing against the ground. Blue noticed him there and sent out a small, sad smile and a salute, his free hand resting in that of Green, who intertwined his fingers with Red’s, but he was  _ too damn far away, he was too f*cking late,  _ and the white arch stood right there, slathered in brilliant crimson, crumbling under the boulders that crushed it, so close, the gleaming pillars of Arbiter’s Grounds hanging over them, blood-red like an omen, a death knell, like that  _ cursed Triforce _ , as Sky barreled onwards, too late,  _ too late, there was no way he could make it in time. _

The trio leaned forwards, tilting, passing over the edge of the canyon, their feet leaving the edge in a shower of scarlet sand and Sky couldn’t see what happened next through his tears and he stumbled to the ground, coughing and choking and wheezing and trying desperately to catch one final glimpse of his  _ friends _ as they sunk into the canyon, but staring down into the utter void of blackness, he could make out no such figures.

Smithy—Four—all of him, was gone.

  
  
  
  


“ _ Sky! Help us out here! _ ”

Sky’s eyes snapped up to the cliffside where Red, Green, and Blue all hung, suspended by each other’s hands, another figure looking just like them except dressed in purple— _ violet _ —clinging desperately to the edge, his hand clutching Red’s wrist in a death grip, but quickly losing purchase in the sand, now only hanging onto the ground with one arm.

“ _ Sky, you son of a _ —HURRY UP AND HELP ME OUT BEFORE WE ALL  _ DIE! _ ”

That was enough to snap Sky out of his haze and he rushed forward, grabbing onto the wrist of who he figured was Vio, trying to pull up the others. The last bursts of scarlet were fading, the sky filling up with a deep, dusky violet color as it began to fade to night.

Speaking of the others, they were all screaming.

“WHAT THE HELL, VIO?”

“HOW THE F*CK ARE YOU ALIVE?”

“WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!”

“ _ Please stop shouting! _ ” Sky pleaded, voice weak. It was enough to quiet them for a moment before he continued. “You’re too heavy! I can’t lift you all! Can you merge?”

It seemed like they were about to before Blue stopped them.

“How do we know Vio  _ isn’t  _ dead? What if this is some slimy dark  _ bastard _ pretending to be him? Then what’ll happen if we merge?”

“Would you rather we  _ all _ died?” came Green’s reply, his sweaty hands slowly beginning to slide on Blue’s wrist.

“If we’re taking a Dark Link down with us, I wouldn’t be opposed. Especially if Vio’s still…”

“Guys, stop!” Red shouted, physically torn between his grip on Vio and his grip on Green. “We can handle this on solid ground! Doesn’t Sky have the Master Sword?”

He nodded and that seemed to shut the others up, Sky bracing himself for the flash of light, finding himself staring down at the dangling form of Smith— _ Four _ , who looked up at him with determination blazing in his eyes.

With a final heave, Sky managed to drag him up, back onto the ground, where another flash of light burst out and the four Colors slumped, panting and heaving, on the ground.

“Sky! Make Vio hold the Master Sword!”

At Green’s behest, Sky drew it and held it out, just as he had done to Hyrule the day prior.

Vio cocked his head at Sky in confusion.

“You don’t seem very surprised that there’s four of us.”

Sky shrugged. “I already knew.”

He started at that, eyes wide. “What? How?!”

Sky looked off to the side, still holding the sword extended towards Vio.

“I’ll tell you later. First, let’s just confirm you’re not going to try and kill us all.”

Vio reached out, confidently, grasping the hilt firmly in his hand—all previous reservations forgotten—but Sky didn’t let go, both of them holding it together. Sky looked Vio in the eyes and nodded, the purple-clad hero staring back and nodding in return.

At that, the other three collapsed more fully to the ground, Red’s hand outstretched towards Vio, who stepped forward gingerly and wrapped his fingers around Red’s palm, the owner of which dove forward and pressed himself into Vio’s arms. He hugged him back, Red sobbing openly.

Green rose to his feet, shakily, placing his hand gingerly on the kneeling Vio’s cheek and turning it towards him, pressing his forehead against Vio’s own and closing his eyes, pulling in a breath and blowing it out, Vio’s eyes searching Green’s facial expression for any sort of explanation as to what had happened only moments prior.

Blue slumped into Vio’s arms, wrapping Red up as well, and the four sat together, relishing each other’s company.

Sky fell to the ground, legs weak and lungs filled with sandpaper.

“You’re alive.”

It could have been any of them who spoke, save Vio, who looked on in confusion.

“Yeah? What else would I be?”

Sky stepped in so the others wouldn’t have to, saying: “We were told you were dead. You’ve been missing for a week.”

Vio started.

“Dead? A  _ week? _ ”

“Why?” Green asked, pulling back a little. “Don’t you remember what happened to you?”

Vio shook his head. “The last thing I remember is going on that walk with you guys. We split to give ourselves some air, then the next thing I knew I was stumbling out from that arch and you idiots were trying to f*cking  _ kill yourselves! _ ”

“It’s been a rough week,” Blue mumbled, the others laughing laughs that  _ weren’t funny _ in the slightest and saying no more, holding Vio close.

Sky looked around at the quickly darkening and cooling desert. The other heroes might show up soon and Wild was still lying unconscious in plain view. 

But for now, he was content to let— _ no. Last time you let yourself get soft, Smithy almost died. Get your head in the game. _

Resheathing the Master Sword, he carefully rose to his feet. “We should make sure Wild’s okay. The others might get worried and come after us soon.”

The four Colors looked to each other reluctantly. 

“Alright, but you three have some serious explaining to do,” Vio ordered and the other three nodded. In another flash of light, four became Four.

He sat on the ground, holding his head with the Four Sword clutched in his other hand. Sky knelt down by his side.

“You gonna be okay?”

Four nodded, accepting Sky’s hand up and slumping against his side. With one hand on Four’s shoulder to steady him, the pair made their way towards Wild’s slowly stirring form. 

“Hey,” Sky coaxed, shaking his shoulder gently.

He looked back to Four. “What did you do to him?”

Four looked off to the side, shame filling his form.

“We knocked him out.”

Sky was about to comment, but could figure that Four was already internally berating himself as it was. He didn’t need anyone else hopping on.

Rousing the sleeping Champion, Sky smiled—it was easier to fake than it had been in a while—and welcomed him back to the land of the living.

Wild squinted, rubbing his head and groaning as he sat up.

“Wha… what happened?”

Sky looked back to Four.

“You were mining some of the ore we spotted and a chunk of rock broke off and hit you in the face and knocked you out.”

Sky shot a look at Four like  _ how the heck do you expect him to belie _ —

Wild laughed. “Checks out.”

Sky froze at that. He was definitely putting too much effort into lying to everyone if they’d believe utter nonsense like this.

Either way, the trio made their way towards the small golden light flickering in the distance, presumably the rest of the group’s campfire. As they neared, a cheer rose from the remaining heroes and Sky awkwardly gestured to the Master Sword, unsure if they’d trust him, but the three were welcomed back without any fuss and Sky realized how little they trusted him after all. Just like that, the dream ended and he was back, alone with his thoughts, which were really not the best company.

He needed to work out a plan of action, he decided, idly chopping carrots for Wild. Smithy was back to being Four again. Why? What had happened to Vio? Obviously, his memory had been wiped, just like the others, only this time more fully. Had he been captured by the Dark? It would make the most sense, but why kidnap him? Why keep him after the three days? And why give him back now? It didn’t make any sense.

The real question was if Sky should let Four in on what he’d learnt.

Just kidding, that wasn’t a question at all.

The answer was no.

He saw what the consequences were last time and was not about to let anything like that happen again, Vio’s return be damned. A message had bent sent, and Sky was not about to forget it.

They ate dinner—supposedly, Sky could barely taste anything—but before he could zone out too much, Twilight started talking and it sounded important.

“Through this archway is the Bulbin camp. It’s full of watchtowers and coverspots, so it’s a great shooting gallery, but we need to be careful. It’s always been crawling with monsters, and they may very well be black-blooded, so we all need a good night’s sleep and those on watch need to stay on extra high alert. We haven’t seen any enemies here yet, so Arbiter’s Grounds is where it all goes down.”

The group nodded, serious, and Four offered to sharpen everyone’s weapons.

Sky felt a small warmth flicker in his chest and the others, most likely taking it as a form of apology for the prior night, accepted the smithy’s offer. 

Settling down into his bedroll, Sky stared into the sea of stars above him. Wild perched on a nearby boulder for watch, scanning the boulders near the arch mistrustfully. 

Vio was back.

What did this  _ mean? _

_ It didn’t make any sense—Vio was dead. … Or did Vio end up reappearing somehow, meaning the cycle could repeat? _

Oh sh*t.

Oh  _ no _ .

What the f*ck.

It  _ could _ be fifty-eight full cycles, then. No, wait, that would mean that with fifty-eight repetitions of nine three-day cycles each, it would be years, far longer than they’d been travelling together. Fifty-eight individual cycles, then? That could fit. Sky couldn’t remember exactly how long it had been since they met, though, so he wasn’t able to fact check that specifically.

_ What if it’s fifty-eight cycles  _ left _? _

Oh.

If it was fifty-eight  _ left _ , and there were three people who hadn’t been affected yet—Legend, Twilight, and…  _ himself _ —that meant that by the time it got back around to Warriors, it would be fifty-four. And that was divisible by nine, meaning it would hit all of them the same number of times exactly.

Sky silently pulled his hand over his mouth to quiet his rapidly quickening breaths. The last thing he needed was Wild coming over and checking on him.

If it was, in fact, fifty-eight cycles left, that would mean this was the seventh full rotation.

And there would be six more.

If this was, in fact, their first cycle. And now that Vio was back, he had no guarantee of that. There were nine of them, and ten was a round number.

_ How many times had this happened? _

If Sky were to lose the Master Sword, which again, he only  _ hypothesized _ was protecting him, he could lose all of his progress and be thrown back to square one, none the wiser.

He reached out his hand, placing it on the blade that laid innocuously by his side and pulled it closer, its chilled metal washing shivers over him. 

And what happened when that little counter hit zero?

What was the point in marinating them in their own agony over and  _ over _ ?

And why count down on the backs of their hands?

Why rub it in their faces?

Obviously, they didn’t need a stopwatch on their hands to keep track of how long three days was. So why mark them with how many cycles they had left? Did those affected know about the cycles? They sure as hell didn’t act like it.

_ So what happens when we hit zero? _

It looked like he wasn’t going to be sleeping tonight, either.

The watches changed. Time sat by the fire, not burning anything because it wasn’t his cycle and everyone just reset, every cycle, just like that. Everyone returned what they’d been given and went on with their lives, remembering nothing and if he wasn’t careful, he could fall prey to that same endless cycle of ignorance.

Everyone but Sky.

Never again.

He had to  _ earn _ every scrap of knowledge he had, through cunning and lies and betrayal and he wasn’t about to give up one word of it. As long as he had the Master Sword and his wits, he still had hope that he could put an end to this. 

Time woke Legend for watch, and the veteran took his place by the fire. The Old Man settled in for sleep, and not long after, quiet footsteps padded over, crunching slightly in the sand. Sky tensed, his grip tightening around the Master Sword as a figure crouched over him with a sigh, banishing his thoughts as Sky tried to maintain some modicum of focus on the lingering presence above him.

“I know you’re awake, Sky.”

His voice was soft and warm, but  _ no,  _ this wasn’t like last time. They had no no-questions-agreement, and Sky had nothing to learn from talking to Legend.

He remained silent.

Legend shifted, probably forgoing his crouching position in favor of a seated one—Sky’s back was turned, so he couldn’t see. Sky’s heart rate tripled, and he tried not to tense up even more, the Master Sword held in a white-knuckled grip.

But Legend didn’t do anything, simply sitting there. After resigning himself to his fate, Sky decided to hazard a glance back at Legend. 

The veteran sat cross-legged on the sand, his left hand opening and closing, fisting and flexing, over and over, his eyes, filled with ambivalence, shooting to the horizon when he noticed Sky turning to look at him. 

“What do you want?”

Sky tried not to be too cold as he spoke, but he couldn’t muster up enough effort to notice if he actually had or not.

Sky had placed his bedroll as far from the fire as he could to give himself enough space to think to himself without being noticed by whoever was on watch. An icy wind rolled over the distant mountains and swept across the desert that gleamed indigo in the night. Sky tucked himself further into his bedroll, once again turning his back to Legend, who was holding in a shiver.

Sky heard a small rustling as Legend reached out towards him, his hand hovering over Sky, before he pulled it back, fisting into his tunic. 

He heard Legend suck in a breath and blow it out forcefully. The kid was cold. Why was he still sitting next to Sky, being nothing but irritating?

Rolling his eyes and sick of Legend’s lingering presence, Sky unwrapped his sailcloth from himself before pausing. What was he  _ thinking _ ? Giving his sailcloth to  _ Legend _ ? This was one of his most prized possessions! But the only other warmth he had was the thick fabric of his bedroll and no way in hell was he giving that up on a night like this. The thought of not giving Legend anything at all briefly crossed his mind, but Legend was stupid and stubborn and if Sky didn’t do something, he would sit here all night, being awkward and silent.

So, sighing internally, he extracted his sailcloth from his bedroll and threw it at Legend, a clear “you got what you wanted now go away” message sent.

It was not received, though, as Legend sputtered, the sailcloth in his hands.

“Hey, hold on, I’m supposed to be comforting you!”

“Go back to the fire before you freeze to death. You’re not exactly the best at this whole comforting thing.”

Legend huffed. “You’re not exactly making it easy for me.”

The veteran waited a moment before sighing.

“It breaks my heart to see you like this, Sky. Truly, it kills me inside.” 

He didn’t respond, only listening. Of course he was breaking Legend’s heart. Everything he was doing, he was doing to protect them, and instead of showing the slightest ounce of gratitude, they get their feelings hurt.  _ Thanks _ . 

“I know you haven’t been telling me everything, and at this point, I know you won’t.” He sighed to himself, pulling Sky’s sailcloth tighter around himself. “But I want to help you through this… whatever it is. It’s destroying you, and that’s clear as day. If I can’t help you with your struggles themselves, I can at least try to help you get through them. We’ve all been through some serious sh*t, but watching you… this is different. And I’ll be damned if I stand by idly and watch you go through this alone.”

Sky’s breaths grew uneven as he listened. 

This wasn’t right. Legend wasn’t supposed to… to care. None of them were. It was just words. It was all just words they said to keep him placated. Why was Legend sitting out here in the cold with him? Why was Legend saying these things? This wasn’t what Legend was  _ like. _ He was rude and crass and didn’t care about anyone except maybe Hyrule, so why…?

“F*ck it. F*ck this. F*ck me,” Legend decided suddenly, rubbing his hands together quickly to warm them. “If you speak of this to anyone, I will personally incinerate you.”

Sky tensed a little in anticipation, but his brain stopped altogether when Legend moved to the other side of Sky’s sleeping bag, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around one of Sky’s hands. They were cold, but they intertwined with Sky’s own—his other hand still wrapped firmly around the Master Sword’s hilt—and gradually started to warm. Legend’s back was firmly planted towards Sky, but his hand still reached behind him. Sky’s heart raced, Legend’s hand just… sitting there. In his. What the hell?

Sky expected… he didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t Legend holding his hand. All through the night. Sky eventually scooted closer so the veteran could get a better grip while reaching behind him. 

Their hands were warm, though, and it was a welcome balm to their numbing fingers to have each other’s presence. There was something peaceful about it, something welcome, despite Sky’s complete and utter inability to decide if he was enjoying it or not.

He was broken from his thoughts by a gentle pressure on his hand that quickly released and, before Sky knew what he was doing, he’d already squeezed back. This kept happening, each time catching Sky off-guard no matter how many times it happened. Until, that is, a while passed, the stars lingering overhead benignly and the waning crescent moon meandering its careful track along the sky, and Legend didn’t squeeze Sky’s hand. 

So he squeezed Legend’s. 

And Legend squeezed back, the veteran’s shoulders relaxing imperceptibly, some tension that was hanging there released. 

_ What the hell was Sky doing? _

Wait, no. What  _ was  _ he doing? Actually, though.

He was thinking about something before, wasn’t he? But dammit, Legend was being too distracting and every time he managed to drift off on some stray train of thought, a little squeeze dragged him back.

He squeezed Legend’s hand one last time before his memory faded out.

  
  


Sky opened his eyes, spotting Legend perched by the campfire. One of Sky’s hands was wrapped around the hilt of the Master Sword and the other was fisted in his sailcloth.

With Legend acting so out of character, making him fall asleep, and then pretending nothing had happened, Sky wasn’t entirely convinced he wasn’t imagining all of it. If he started hallucinating, it would definitely be Legend’s fault.

Definitely.

Anyway, this was the last day of Hyrule’s cycle, so Sky was going to have to watch him with eagle eyes to make sure nothing went down. Something  _ always _ happened on the last day.

The group set out, bows at the ready, assorted arrows glittering with sheens of magic. They reached the gate, Sky staring up at the white stone arch as he passed under it. It was marble, carefully cut and stacked, the cracks between every block widened by the whittling of sands. The builders evidently hadn’t used any manner of cement, yet somehow the stones still stood in the shape of an arch.

The constant pressure seemed to be enough to hold it together, but it was beginning to look more and more like one swift blow would be enough to send all of the pieces tumbling down into rubble.

Sky hurried under the arch, eager to be out from beneath it.

The floor of the small canyon rose upwards, the loose sand turning to stair-like boulders that rose up to another pathway, Sky surreptitiously giving Four a boost up the rises that were higher than the smithy was tall.

As Four was cresting the final stair, a shuddering crash sounded out behind them, causing Sky to flinch. He turned back to see the stone arch, laying in a heap of stones and dust beneath the ochre boulders. It wasn’t enough to entirely cut off any hope of escape, but it sent shivers washing over Sky, nonetheless.

“Oh,” was all he said, pulling himself up the stair.

He steeled himself, following as Twilight picked his way through a series of branching paths. Before long, the cliffs on either side of them fell away and they were left with a wide expanse of ruins. Stone structures encrusted with swirling rune-like symbols stretched out before them, swathed in scaffolding, wooden watchtowers peering over some of the distant walls. In front of them stood another stone gateway, this one adorned with the Hylian Crest, two of the prongs on its wings broken off, and an otherwise smooth arch clearly missing a single block. Beyond it, framing it, hung the towers and now the arching stone structures, too, of Arbiter’s Grounds, shimmering silver and gold in the noonday sun. As Sky took in the scenery, Twilight had pulled a raptor-like mask—the Hawkeye, he’d called it—over his eyes and drew his bow, sweeping the distant towers carefully.

Wild stepped forward, carefully cupping his hands over his ears, and Hyrule sniffed the air, his brow furrowed. Time glared at every inch of stone before them, but it was Warriors who stepped forward and spoke.

“There’s no one here, is there.”

Twilight let his bow slacken, returning his Hawkeye to his pouch. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s been one of those kinds of adventures, pup,” Time coaxed, resting a hand on Twilight’s shoulder. “But we’ll keep a sharp lookout. We won’t let them catch us off-guard.”

With that, the group cautiously inched forward, rounding every corner with arrows nocked and bows drawn. They passed under scaffolded ceilings with hands on hilts and those in the back of the group, Sky, Legend, and Hyrule, carefully watched to make sure they weren’t being followed.

The silence was maddening. Nothing save the wind so much as made a sound. The heroes had all learned to walk silently, one way or another, and were applying their skills to the fullest. Sky strained his ears for any sign of danger, and even then he could barely hear the breaths of his companions.  _ Why wasn’t there anyone here? _ It didn’t make any sense. It was the same chilling atmosphere as the penultimate moment of a dungeon, when the final room is silent save the fading reverberations of the door slamming shut, before whatever monstrosity lay inside could unleash its demonic roar.

That.

But it dragged on for  _ hours. _

Everyone grew consistently more on edge, nobody willing to drop their guard and rush because they all knew that feeling. That same feeling when it was  _ too quiet _ . It was the calm before the storm but  _ where the f*ck was the storm? _

Sky looked between Hyrule and Legend and the way they carefully brought up the rear. It was interesting, Sky thought to himself, to see what habits they’d all developed as they traversed their adventures— _ and suffered at Sky’s hands, yes, this has been established _ . For one, Sky carefully watched the ceilings for any skulltulas ready to drop down while Hyrule scanned the ground, waiting for something to crop up from beneath the loose sand. Legend cautiously poked his head around every corner that they didn’t pass through. There was a deliberateness to their movements, a trained knowingness, that betrayed how much their experiences had affected them.

_ Experiences that Sky had damned them all to. _

_ Was this just his own personal hell? A punishment for making them suffer? _

Some other part of Sky absently wondered what tics he’d picked up during this whole mess. Would they follow him for years to come? Would they still, if his memory was wiped? Did he have tics, then, from prior cycles? Tics he didn’t know the origins of, or even realize that he had?

He shivered a little.

Cycles. Memories. They all burned through his head on an endless loop. This was, after all, the last day of Hyrule’s cycle.

_ “It’s going to be okay, Sky. I’m taking care of it.” _

What did he mean,  _ taking care of it? _ Was it the same brand as Warriors’  _ taking care of it? _ Sky hanging at the back of the group with Hyrule was no accident, and he would be watching the kid like a hawk that night, but he couldn’t shake the growing anxiety.  _ And the atmosphere wasn’t helping, dammit. _ They were so  _ close _ to their final destination, but there were still three cycles left before everyone was affected and at some point, Sky had shifted from thinking of Arbiter’s Ground as the end, to just another point on their journey. Because there would be more after it. Of course there would be more after it. Even if all nine cycles were completed, who knows how many more there would be afterwards.

If Sky managed to keep Hyrule alive tonight, he’d wake up tomorrow and—

He froze where he stood.

It could be him.

There was a one-in-three chance. His odds were getting higher now.

He could wake up tomorrow with every answer he’d been searching for finally revealed to him, but he’d be in more danger than ever, and in three days, it would all be gone. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind and welling up in the lowest cavities of his lungs came the torrent of  _ stress stress stress stress Stress Stress STRESS STRESS STRESS STRESS  _ that pounded at the back of his skull. His hands curled into fists and he wanted nothing more than to press his back against a wall and sink to the ground. He altered his course to walk a little closer to the ruined barrier by his side and tried to slow his breaths.

If this carried on much longer, Sky was either going to break down, pass out, or break down and  _ then  _ pass out.

Or go mad.

Legend looked at him curiously before adding under his breath, “... Sky? You good?”

Sky felt a jolt inside him, and his mind filled with  _ lie lie lie lie lie! Legend isn’t going to believe you if you tell him it’s nothing! Lie! _

Sky grasped at mental straws before latching onto something at random and running with it.

“Sorry,” he laughed a little sheepishly, trying to keep his voice low but knowing full well everyone could probably hear him anyway. “I had this weird dream… actually it’s happened twice now. It was the middle of the night, and you actually were being nice to me! It was really weird, but it felt so real and it’s screwing with my head a little.”

Somehow, it was possible for Legend’s face to grow even more sober, it did, and he looked off to the side, checking to see if there was anything behind a corner before silently drifting closer, wrapping his fingers around Sky’s own, and squeezing gently.

Sky felt a jolt run through his chest at that and fully expected Legend’s hand to vanish from his grip. It stayed, though, and the sun trekked its silent path through the sky as tensions in the group only rose. They wove their way through barrier after hallway after wall after ruin and never once dropped their guard.

It was f*cking exhausting.

If it hadn’t been for Legend’s hand in his, who knows what he would have done.

_ You can’t go relying on others. What if he gets affected? It could break you. What if you let something slip? It could break him. You got too close to Four and there were consequences. What makes you think Legend is going to be any different? _

Sky tensed, Legend squeezed his hand, and Sky couldn’t bring himself to not squeeze back.

_ How was he still too f*cking soft? After everything? _

Sky glanced back at Hyrule, looking for an escape, but the traveler didn’t seem to acknowledge Sky’s newfound cuddliness with someone who had only ever been sufferable with Hyrule. In fact, whenever he looked at their joined hands, as he sometimes did, he only smiled that  _ damn sad smile _ and looked away contemplatively.

The sun was drifting towards the hills to the west and Twilight ushered them into a small corner of the base for the night.

“Are you sure, pup? I think we’d all like to spend as little time here as possible once it gets dark.”

Twilight laughed a little laugh to himself. It wasn’t a happy laugh. Sky didn’t think he’d heard a happy laugh in a good long while. “Oh, Arbiter’s Grounds is way worse. This is the last good stopping point for a while. You’ll thank me later.”

With that setting absolutely nobody’s minds at ease, Wild lit a cooking fire and started making the most complicated meal he had the facilities to produce. Four started obsessively cleaning and sharpening everyone’s weapons—again, Warriors polished the same pauldron for approximately three and a half hours, Twilight vanished—oh, who was he kidding, Twilight was scouting as Wolfie, and Wind was talking to Time in a low voice by the fire, Wild listening in as well. That left Legend and Hyrule. They sat by Legend’s bedroll, which was far from the fire—close to Sky’s for some Hyliaforsaken reason—and spoke in low voices. Sky took that as his invitation to head right on over to his bedroll and compulsively clean the Master Sword, his own nervous habit. 

And eavesdrop.

That too.

If they didn’t want to be heard, they shouldn’t have been so close to his bedroll.

He turned his back to them, though, watching them through the blade’s reflection as he listened. 

In the gleaming metal of the Master Sword, a silvery Hyrule crushed an unsuspecting Legend in a hug. The latter flinched and awkwardly patted his successor’s back. Hyrule didn’t let go, though, squeezing tighter and burying his face into the crook of Legend’s neck. He whispered something, and it was only because that camp was so eerily silent save those by the fire, who were farther away anyway, that Sky was able to pick out what Hyrule had said.

“Legend, please promise me you’ll take care of yourself. I know my era isn’t the most well-off at the moment, but it’s been  _ centuries  _ since your time. You have to promise me you won’t blame yourself for that. You didn’t fail. You didn’t. You haven’t and you didn’t and you won’t. You’re  _ not _ a failure.”

He sounded so earnest. So honest. Sky tightened his grip on the Master Sword, not realizing one of his hands was still wrapped around the blade until the handle started steadily growing in temperature. He quickly released it with a mental apology to Fi and tried not to wish he could hear those words spoken to him that sincerely. He didn’t deserve them and they weren’t true but  _ how he wished they could have been _ .

Legend’s reply was hesitant and confused, but genuine nonetheless. “Same goes to you. You’re not a failure, Rulie, you could never be.”

At that, Hyrule’s grip only tightened, startling Legend, but he said no more for a long while, simply staying in his predecessor’s arms.

Sky closed his eyes. It was so damn familiar. Wind had done it, Wild had done it, Time had done it.

It sounded like he was saying goodbye. The handle of the Master Sword grew startlingly warm and Sky had to consciously relax his grip. Breathe. He’d stop it in time. He had a perfect record already, right? Besides, if anyone died, the cycle wouldn’t be able to repeat.

He tried not to wonder if letting Hyrule die would break the cycle.

No.

_ No! How could he think that!  _ The only reason he was doing this was for them. If anyone was going to die to break it, it would be him.

It was only fitting.

But now he was spiraling down a path of conjecture. He had no guarantees of… well, anything, really, but he couldn’t throw his life away on a pipe dream like that. Not while there was work to do. Instead, Sky waited for Legend to start asking questions. That was what the veteran did. He knew when to ask them, though, and which ones to ask. He would have been much better suited for this than Sky. 

After a few moments, he finally did, loosening the hug a little to try to get a better look at his successor’s face. “Hyrule, is everything alright?”

Hyrule didn’t respond, hiding his face in Legend’s shoulder.

Legend sighed, but then Hyrule finally managed to whisper out, “it will be.”

Sky couldn’t quite make out what happened next, but afterwards he managed to spot Legend drawing Hyrule into a tighter hug and murmuring in return, “I trust you.”

Probably a bad decision, Sky mused, his mind wrenching him into a world where Warriors  _ had _ fallen silently to that Moblin, where Wind  _ had _ been crushed in that stampede, where, where, where Four, or Smithy, or however he was going to refer to the three of them  _ had _ plunged their swords through—

His spiraling thoughts and whatever Legend and Hyrule were up to were interrupted by Wild calling them over for dinner, and, though the heroes scanned the darkness constantly, the food was stunning; Wild had really given it his all.

All flavor drained from it, though, the second Hyrule began to speak.

“You’re my family, you know that?”

Sky immediately began scanning through Hyrule’s words, looking for any clue he could glean. If the heat draining from his stomach was anything to go by, this was his _goodbye_ and he was _planning_ _something_ and he could _die_ and he couldn’t die, no, that _couldn’t_ happen. Sky wouldn’t let it. And he wouldn’t let _anything_ get in his way.

If this was his goodbye, then he was planning to go out, probably sometime past—Sky jolted. Hyrule had first watch. 

Looked like another late night, then.

If he slept at all. 

“I love you all, so much, more than I can express, and, and I mean… I spent so much time alone during my adventures and”—he looked up from where he was fiddling with his hands, determination blazing in his eyes—“I can’t go back to that. You’re my family and I don’t ever want to have to be without you. I don’t ever want to go back to that.”

Definitely planning something, then. If Hyrule died tonight, he wouldn’t have to go back to his home world. Done and done. 

“So you have to all promise you’ll stay safe,” ah yes, a very smooth redirection. Make it sound like he was worried they’d leave him, not planning to do the opposite. Funny how being a liar made it so much easier to see through others.

Upon second thought, though, what if that was it?

Going back to their home worlds? Three days until they get banished to life as it was. It would explain so much, the goodbyes, the giveaways, the—

No, Wind  _ loved _ his home, Aryll and Tetra and his grandmother. He’d never be so reckless if he knew he was going to see them; they’d fuss.

Sky tried not to let his frustration show on his face.

“...because I can’t imagine my life without any of you anymore. I love all of you. Thank you.”

“Thank  _ you! _ ” seemed to be the sentiment, the group’s spirits raised. Strange how they were so quick to take it at face value.

Sky knew better.

Sky was the only one who knew better.

Only Sky.

Dinner ended, there might have been a group hug—Sky was too numb to notice—and they dispersed once again. There was a watchtower in the corner of the area where they had set up camp, and Hyrule stood at the bottom, staring up the ladder with steel in his eyes.

Legend approached and Sky lingered by the fire, trying to listen in.

“Hyrule, are you sure you’re going to be okay tonight?”

“Of course! I could use the peace and quiet. I’ll be sure to wake you up if I need you, though.”

His joviality was forced; it was trying too hard to be natural. Did Sky sound like that? Fake happiness sounded fake, that much he knew, so perhaps it was better to fake a different emotion and give a made-up reason for feeling that way. He made a mental note of it and continued to listen.

“Okay,” Legend finally sighed reluctantly. “I care about you, Hyrule.”

“I care about you too, Legend. Make sure you drink enough water. And get enough sleep!”

Legend ruffled his successor’s hair with a tired laugh. “You’re one to talk, you dork. Take care of yourself and then I’ll consider it.”

But Hyrule only sobered at that, looking Legend in the eye. “I mean it, Legend. You have to take care of yourself.”

“Hyrule, what’s going on?”

Sky tried not to lean in closer. If he wouldn’t tell Sky, if  _ nobody _ would tell Sky  _ anything _ , maybe he’d tell Legend. If anyone would tell anyone anything, it would be Hyrule and Legend, but no explanation came, none save a “I just want you to be careful! It’s dangerous out here and we don’t know what tomorrow will bring. You’ll need your strength.”

Nobody bought that, but Legend let it rest, heading back to his bedroll with a tired sigh. Most people, it seemed, had turned in for the night, leaving Sky to lie awake with one eye trained steadily on Hyrule at his perch atop the watchtower, silhouetted against the light of a thousand stars and the tiniest sliver of moon. It would be new in a few days.

The moon traced its patch across the sky, passing behind Hyrule’s form, his legs dangling off the edge of the haphazardly lashed together boards and swaying slightly. After a while, he looked up towards the silver sliver, the slightest shimmer of light ringing his face and his sad, sad eyes, and he picked his way down the ladder, the warm glow of the fire reaching up to take him as the pale edging faded from his figure. 

He stopped in front of the fire, cast his eyes over the Links once, twice, before turning back to the golden glow. He slid his bracers from his wrists—his forearms  _ finally _ visible to Sky—and dropped them to the sandy ground. Hyrule held his hands out and softly, ever so softly, pulled a handful of flame from the ring of stones and watched with a tender smile as it flickered betwixt his fingers, spiraling around his wrist and running out of his palm like water. He tossed it into the air, caught it, and sent it swirling around in graceful ribbons like swallows snatching insects in the air at nightfall. Sky strained his eyes, but at the angle Hyrule was at and in the low lighting, he could only see the  _ palm  _ of Hyrule’s left hand. Sky sunk his teeth into his lip to keep his irritation in. After a few more moments, the traveler gazed fondly into the flame in his hand, letting its light flicker over his face, before letting it slip from his fingers into the fire below.

He brushed his hands together lightly, making his way around the group. He knelt down, passing a softly glowing hand over the sleeping figures of everyone in camp. The warm glow resembled that of the healing magic he used, but whatever it is that he did was gentle enough that nobody stirred, not even Time, who was a notoriously light sleeper.

It passed over Sky, and he tried his best to feign sleep as a sense of  _ vitality _ coursed through him before quickly fading, slipping uselessly into the deep, dark pit that had opened up inside of him and seemed to suck away all mirth and love and energy.

He felt loved, though, in some little way that he couldn’t quite place, though that only made his heart sink further. 

Finally, Hyrule passed by him and reached Legend. Slipping an eye open, Sky spied Hyrule leaning over Legend’s sleeping form and placing a small, tender kiss on the veteran’s forehead. The traveler rose to his feet, the glow fading from his fingertips, and whispered under his breath, “I—Goodbye, Legend. Please take good care of yourself. They’ll all be here for you. Sky seems to have wormed his way into that hurting heart of yours, and I hope you can open it up to the others, too. I’m so, so sorry, Legend. I hope one day you can forgive me for this. But I have to do it. There’s no other way. I’m so sorry it had to come to this. I love you.”

Every neuron in every inch of Sky’s body  _ fired  _ at every blatant admission and he was one more “I’m sorry” away from tackling the kid right then and there.

But no. It was the final night. Who knew if he was being watched by that Dark. Besides, he might accidentally wake up the whole camp. It would best to wait until after he’d left camp to tail him.

Sky trembled under his sailcloth, freezing when he heard Hyrule wake up Warriors for his watch. It was kind of him to not want to leave the camp unattended, but then what was his game plan for getting past the every-vigilant Warriors?

“Let’s go.”

What the hell?

What the  _ f*ck? _

Was Warriors  _ in _ on this?

_ Warriors? _

What the actual  _ F*CK _ was going  _ on _ here?

Was Warriors going to die with him? Was Hyrule going to make Warriors kill him? Was Warriors the Dark in disguise? Was  _ Hyrule _ the Dark? They’d both admitted to having faced one before, hell, Warriors was the one who brought them up in the first place! Were they going to kill  _ each other _ ? 

_ WHAT THE HELL WAS GOING ON? _

The two rose, Hyrule beginning to walk away, but Warriors paused.

“And you’re sure about this?”

“It’s a little late to turn back now.”

“No, it really isn’t. How do you know that all of us together can’t—”

“I’ve already exhausted all my other options. Besides, I need the guarantee. Let’s just finish this before anyone wakes up.”

It was a little too late for that, Hyrule.

But how the f*ck had he gotten  _ Warriors _ to agree to it?!

Whatever  _ it _ was.

The second they passed out of earshot, Sky prepared to leap out of his bedroll, but was interrupted by Legend, who had apparently had the same idea. He sat up in a rush, causing Sky to freeze where he lay, his hand resting lightly on his forehead, where Hyrule had left his final goodbye.

“What the f*ck.”

With a near-silent  _ shing _ , Legend’s sword was pulled from its sheath, glimmering amber in the firelight, and he padded away from camp after them.

Well.

Sky could leave it to Legend to stop Hyrule. He knew that the veteran would move heaven and earth to save the kid’s life. And he’d have no qualms about beating the sh*t out of Warriors to get there.

But if that  _ thing _ came back…

Sky had to be there.

So, his own weapon firmly in his hand, he picked his way towards the others, placing his back firmly against a cool, stone wall as he peered around, spying Hyrule and Warriors, but Legend was nowhere to be seen.

Hyrule stood in a ruined building a small distance from camp, ceiling missing and walls crumbling around them, and if Sky were to judge by his silhouette, he was unfastening his belt, sword and pouches and all still attached to it, and laying it down next to Warriors.

The Captain stepped forward, the tension in his body clear.

He held a hand forward.

“It’s been an honor.”

His voice had cracked.

Hyrule firmly clasped the Captain’s wrist, shaking it, but then Warriors tugged Hyrule towards him, and the traveler stumbled into a firm hug.

“I’m going to miss you, kid.”

Hyrule didn’t respond.

“I still think you should have—”

Hyrule interrupted him by stepping back roughly, pulling himself out of the hug.

“We’re out of time.”

Warriors swore and silently drew his sword.

“You have the fire rod too, right?”

“Yes.”

And that was all he said.

Until, that is, Hyrule whispered “ _ thank you. _ ”

“ _ Don’t thank me for this, _ ” came Warriors’ response, and the Captain raised his sword.

It glittered like a shard of diamond in the spray of stars overhead.

And Hyrule knelt.

And a wordless scream tore through the silent night.

Legend barreled into Warriors, tackling him down with a  _ roar _ and pinning him to the ground in an instant, their swords skittering across the ground.

“ _ WHAT THE  _ **_HELL_ ** _ WAS THAT. _ ”

He’d growled it, an inch from Warriors’ face.

“Legend, please!”

The veteran’s eyes snapped to Hyrule’s.

“I heard everything! You  _ asked  _ him for this!  _ Why?! _ What’s going on?  _ WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?! _ ”

“I couldn’t.”

“ _ Why not?! _ ”

“You wouldn’t have let me do this!”

“Damn straight! Maybe there’s a good f*cking reason for that!”

“You don’t understand!”

“ _ What don’t I understand? _ ”

“I’m  _ out of time! _ ”

Legend stood up from Warriors’ form—the Captain hadn’t fought. It was clear he didn’t want this either. So then  _ how _ had Hyrule talked him into—

Legend rushed to Hyrule and crushed him in a hug. He clutched Hyrule  _ close _ , pressing his form against his own as if it would make Hyrule’s heartbeat any louder so he could  _ feel _ that he was still there. Still alive.

“I love you, Hyrule.”

And Hyrule broke down at that, crying into his predecessor’s arms. It was open, it was messy, he was finally letting loose the floodgates that he’d only let crack once or twice, and he  _ sobbed _ .

He didn’t say anything, though, and Sky’s grip on the Master Sword only tightened.

Then, he could feel it. A chilling, pressing presence. Like a faint odor, not enough to suffocate, but enough to make Sky shiver where he hid.

Hyrule froze.

And then he stiffened.

And then he stood.

And then he took a step.

Legend clung desperately to him, trying to hold onto him, to hold him, back, begging,  _ pleading,  _ “Hyrule, stop!  _ Don’t leave me, dammit! PLEASE! _ ”

He squared his stance, digging his boots into the sand, and never once loosened his hug on Hyrule.

The traveler tried to take another step, but Legend held him firm, grounding him solid in his arms, pressing his face against Hyrule’s chest.

Warriors made his way over, leaning forward to get a look at Hyrule’s face.

“Legend, something’s not right. His eyes, they’re all glazed over.”

There was a spark.

“ _ LEGEND GET AWAY FROM HIM! _ ”

“ _ NO! _ ”

And then Hyrule  _ erupted. _

Sparks burst forth, a million shades of crystal and lightning erupting around him, engulfing the two in a spiraling maelstrom of jagged cracks of pure radiance. Bolts fired outwards, igniting various scattered pieces of scaffolding, and a blaze erupted around the perimeter.

Legend screamed.

But he didn’t let go.

He clung to Hyrule, still bracing himself against the crackling burst. It faded in size, crumpling and snapping like a fire in wet wood, shrinking and flickering, until it finally… went out.

And Legend slumped to the ground at Hyrule’s feet, haloed in the golden aura of the flames that consumed the ruins around them.

Hyrule never flinched, back still ramrod straight, and stepped over him, continuing to make his way forward. Sky couldn’t see his face, and he was glad of it, chills running up and down his spine at the mere  _ thought  _ of Hyrule’s expression.

Warriors moved carefully in front of him, shoulders back and head tilted down like he was expecting a fight, his face bathed in shadow.

“Hyrule, listen to me— _ dammit, where’s Sky and the Master Sword when you need hi _ —”

He was interrupted by a flash of movement, Hyrule rushing to the ground, snatching his sword, and thrusting it through Warriors’ abdomen. Straight up to the hilt. The blade stuck out the back, molten gold in the flames and streaked with vermillion.

With that, Warriors’ face snapped upwards and the glow of the flames finally caught it from the side. His eyes flashed wide and his face drained into a pale specter despite the warmth of the fire.

And Warriors fell to the ground, Hyrule’s sword still embedded in his midsection, crimson blossoming outwards like a sunset. The traveler’s head stiffy tracked the body as it fell, and in the light that patterned over it, he could make out Hyrule’s utterly blank, cold, unfeeling expression.

Hyrule stood, silhouetted and ringed in flame, the limp bodies of Legend and Warriors scattered at his feet—the former still twitching—and he began to walk away.

_ Hmm. Looks like I’m finally ready for you. I’ve been looking forward to this. _

_ DAMN IT ALL! _

What the hell was Sky supposed to do?!

He couldn’t do anything that the others hadn’t already tried and if he revealed himself now,  _ his memory could be wiped. _

And that was  _ all he had _ . 

He couldn’t risk losing it.

He  _ couldn’t _ .

Legend had thwarted Warriors’ and Hyrule’s plan, and now it was just Hyrule and that… thing. It hadn’t killed Time when it had the chance, only transferred whatever this  _ curse _ was onto Hyrule. Maybe he’d be okay.

But what about afterwards? Warriors and Legend were  _ here _ . Maybe it wasn’t just him anymore. Hyrule would forget, but this was a  _ big deal. _ Sky didn’t know if he should be thrilled or horrified that they were now well and truly involved.

Unless it wiped them, too.

And he  _ couldn’t  _ let himself be included in that.

He  _ wouldn’t. _

He’d lose everything.

So he held his ground and squinted through the flames as Hyrule’s figure stood and faced a black silhouette with a fluttering pointed hat and beady red eyes and a mid-length tunic and a form that waltzed around Hyrule’s rigid posture, leaning over his shoulders and stretching like a cat before gallivanting back in front of Hyrule, where his pitch black shape was wracked with unhinged laughter until it suddenly composed itself, snapping its fingers.

With that, Hyrule collapsed to the ground and Legend and Warriors moaned.

Was that it?

Could that be the wipe?

It must have been, because the figure blinked out of existence, flickering out of sight without any fanfare or effect, simply gone as if it were never there at all.

And now it was just Sky. Just Sky and the blazing heat from the fires that still roared and Warriors’ rich, dark blood was still soaking into the shimmering sand and Legend had  _ stopped twitching was that a good thing or a bad thing _ . And  _ what the hell had the Dark done to Hyrule? _

What if it was still lingering around, laughing in glee?

He counted to five.

One.

He’d check everyone’s vitals, make sure they were still alive.

Two. 

He’d wake up Hyrule if he could. If the kid had any magic left, Sky could get him to use it to help Legend. 

Three.

Then he’d rush back to camp and get every bandage and potion he could find.

Four.

Then he’d rush back, and fix up Warriors and, if Hyrule couldn’t help Legend, him too.

Five.

Then he’d deal with whatever the hell the fallout of this was.

Sky sucked in a breath and fired it out, nodding to himself, grip on the Master Sword firm, and threw himself forward, skidding to Warriors’ side. 

One. 

He crouched down and checked his vitals—lift the chin, fingers to the neck, cheek over the mouth, just like he’d learned at the Knight Academy, all those millenia from whatever hell he’d landed himself in—determining with a sigh that wracked his body with relief that he was actually alive.

He knelt down by Legend’s side, checking his pulse as well. The kid’s face was streaked with burns, angry and red, and his tunic was singed up and down, charred and torn in places. Sky tried not to think about how they’d hide that, his free hand slipping into the veteran’s own. It was marbled with burns—probably similar to how Hyrule’s had looked after Sky had gotten to him—and he took it gingerly, like a baby bird from the Surface, and cradled it in his hands.

And, ever so slightly, he squeezed.

And, one slow breath and two faint heartbeats later, Sky felt a slight pressure on his own hand.

Legend was still clinging to life. So was Hyrule.

Two. 

Another breath. In and out. Focus. 

“Hyrule?” he gingerly shook the traveler. “Please wake up.”

A grunt and a moan.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Sky tried to smile at Hyrule’s bleary eyes that blinked slowly with exhaustion. “I don’t have time to explain. We were attacked”—he wasn’t wrong—“and you got knocked out”—still not a lie—“if you have any magic left, I need you to try and heal Legend. Don’t worry about Warriors, I’ll handle him. Focus on Legend.”

At the mention of his predecessor’s name, Hyrule’s eyes sharpened into focus and he shot up, nodding, and Sky guided him towards Legend, carefully placing himself between Hyrule and the person his sword was still buried inside, only leaving when he saw a weak light flicker to life around Hyrule’s fingers.

Three.

Sky skidded to a stop at camp, panting. How the hell was everyone asleep after all the noise they made?

The Dark  _ had _ put Warriors to sleep at the end of Time’s cycle, perhaps it had done the same again. Because of course it could do that.

Snatching a few rolls of bandages and every potion he could find— _ damn, they really needed more of these things _ —he rushed back to the fires where Hyrule stood, back to Sky, the flames beginning to smoulder and die around him. He was silhouetted, though, and his back was perfectly straight.

Four.

Sky blew out a shaky breath and knelt, ever so slowly, laying the potions on the ground and slowly pulling the Master Sword in front of him.

“Sky?”

Hyrule hadn’t turned to face him, and he took the tremor in his voice to mean that Hyrule was, in fact, himself.

“You said we were attacked, right?”

Sky resheathed his sword, scooping the potions back into his arms and rising unsteadily to his feet.

Hyrule turned to face him, his wide, horrified, quivering eyes boring into Sky, smouldering with the fading embers around them— _ fading like the lives of his companions, Hyrule we don’t have time for this! _

Hyrule’s hand shook, only his blood-red Triforce visible on the back of his left hand as he gestured to Warriors—and the weapon inside of him.

“Who attacked us?”

Sky ignored his question, skidding to Warriors’ side and slipping a potion down his throat.

“Do you have any magic left?” was his only response.

“ _ Sky! _ ”

“We have bigger problems to worry about here!”

“No we don’t, what—what if I do it again? I could  _ kill all of you!  _ I think that constitutes a pretty big f*cking problem!”

“Hyrule, you need to get over yourself! Please don’t stand there and make me watch Warriors die.”

The traveler spat a curse, sliding to Warriors’ side.

“I’m all out of magic, but I managed to stabilize Legend a little. His life’s not in danger anymore, but he could use a potion or two.”

Sky nodded, holding out a bottle for Hyrule.

“You can’t trust me with that! If I get my magic back, I’ll—”

“You’ll help me pull this sword out of Warriors’ stomach without  _ killing him! _ ”

“ _ That’s MY sword! _ ”

“ _ I noticed! _ Now start chugging that thing because I’m going to pull it out on three.”

Hyrule complied, downing it— _ way faster than he should be able to, what the hell? _ —and placing his hands over Warriors’ wound, the soft glow gleaming harsh like floodlights over the bright red of the spilt blood and, as Sky extracted the guilty blade from his comrade’s stomach, the last of the fires died out. With a final burst of warmth, the light dripping from Hyrule’s fingertips flickered out and the trio was plunged into darkness.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you in four months! XD


	7. The Sky, Blood-Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked me how things could possibly get any worse.
> 
> ...
> 
> This chapter is 37,037 words long.
> 
> <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooooooo this chapter, um... escalates. a lot. if what has happened previously in this fic has made you uncomfortable in any way, please exercise extreme caution.
> 
> ANYWAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO M AE AND MISOMAGIC Y'ALL SEEM TO LIKE THIS FIC AND I REALLY WANTED TO GET THIS OUT FOR YOUR BIRTHDAYS BUT IT GOT A LITTLE OUT OF HAND ANYWAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU FOOLS I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH.

_ Then he’d deal with whatever the hell the fallout of this was. _

Five.

Sky kept his breaths as cool and steady as he could, what with the darkness as suffocating as it was. It hadn’t been long enough since the flames went out for his eyes to adjust properly, so he was left to clumsily clean the wound in Warriors’ abdomen in utter blackness.

“Hyrule do you have a lantern or something? I don’t feel comfortable moving them back near the fire yet.”

Hyrule made a strained hum of affirmation and there was the sound of him feeling around for something—his belt by the sound of it—and soon a small candle blossomed to life, illuminating the area.

Murmuring out a half-hearted thanks, Sky managed to expose Warriors’ wound.  _ Had he made the wrong choice? _ Last time he prioritized answers over all else, he’d nearly lost Four. Here he was again, but this time he’d done  _ nothing _ —nothing but watch. What was he  _ thinking? _ He literally had the Master Sword! He was right there! He could have ended all of it the second he saw the silhouette, but instead he stood idly by, ignoring Warriors’ desperate cry for Sky and his blade. Now here he was, Warriors and Legend slumped on the ground around him. Their blood was on  _ his _ hands, not Hyrule’s. And how the hell was he supposed to hide this?! Arbiter’s Grounds was  _ right f*cking there _ and Warriors and Legend were in no condition to fight like this. 

Now, with what, Warriors impaled, Legend’s crumpled form littered with rashes and burns, Hyrule’s dominant hand still out of commission, since he’d opted not to heal it  _ for some reason _ , and Four… barely functional what with everything that Sky had put him through… that was four people. Counting Sky, who had barely slept the past few weeks and was hardly eating anymore… 

That was over half of their group, compromised, barely able to defend themselves,  _ hurting _ , all because of Sky.

At this point, he was seriously beginning to wonder if he was doing more harm than good. He cast his gaze over the carnage around them. His eyes fell onto Legend.

If he caused any more destruction, he’d have to start considering passing the torch.

And removing himself from the situation.

He motioned for Hyrule to move the candle closer to Warriors’ face and he gingerly poured a potion down, making sure Warriors could swallow it all. 

“How’s Legend?” he asked, watching the crimson liquid drain from the bottle.

Sky could hear the irritation  _ dripping _ from Hyrule’s words when he responded.

“I don’t know, Sky, how  _ is _ Legend? You still haven’t told me what  _ happened _ to him!”

Hyrule shifted, angling himself to get a better view of Sky’s face.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he spent a prolonged period of time being electrocuted at point blank range by an insanely powerful lightning spell—one exactly like Thunder, which, last time I checked, can only be cast by  _ me! _ ” he gestured at his sword with his free hand, “not to mention my f*cking sword! What  _ happened _ here?!”

Hyrule leaned forward, trying to make eye contact with Sky.

“Please, Sky, I just want to know. I just want answers. I can’t… I need to know what happened.”

Sky sighed. He knew the feeling. He also knew that Hyrule  _ really  _ didn’t need to know what had just transpired. But he knew how horrible it felt to be kept in the dark. Actually, Hyrule’s cycle had passed. His memory had been wiped so he had no information to offer anymore. Sky had no reason to try and earn his confidence. He’d become useless. If he hated Sky after this, then so be it. He didn’t even try to be convincing.

“You were waking Warriors up for watch. I was comforting Legend with a nightmare. We all heard the sound of enemies approaching and came to investigate. Legend was swarmed by electric Keese. You were attacked and disarmed by a Lizalfos. Another one picked up your weapon and stabbed Warriors with it. You were knocked out, but I managed to take care of everything else.”

Hyrule curled in on himself, his grip on the candle tightening. Far too much horror and the buds of self-loathing filled his voice. 

“So it  _ was _ me, then.”

Sky inspected Warriors’ abdomen, ignoring Hyrule’s words. Warriors’ wound was closing nicely, but he’d better bandage it just to be safe. He was worried about the potions, though. They’d been conserving their resources ever since entering the desert—they hadn’t even used them on Hyrule’s hand—and here Sky was, squandering—hold on a minute.

“Hyrule, your hand.”

He didn’t respond, staring brokenly at Legend’s crumpled body.

“Hyrule, Legend gave you that healing ring, earlier. He could probably use it now, though. Do you want to—” he was interrupted by Hyrule starting and rushing over to Legend’s side, tenderly sliding the ring from his finger to Legend’s. The subtle change in lighting revealed that Hyrule was pouring the rest of his magic into Legend, healing the limp teen as much as possible.

Sky eyed the empty potion bottles by his side. They had six health potions and two magic ones. Sky scanned the darkened desert, though he couldn’t make out much save the endless stars. He smacked his lips. They didn’t have enough supplies to make it back, did they. Wild could fit a shocking amount in his slate and he hadn’t skimped on preparation, but they were burning through resources faster than expected, and that was made strikingly evident by the potions in his hands. 

Six health potions. Two magic potions. 

Sky handed one of the magic potions to Hyrule, who stared at him incredulously. 

Sky’s only response was to gesture to Warriors. “Does he have any internal bleeding?”

Hyrule grimaced at the potion in his hand before downing it.

He laid his hands over Warriors’ midsection and let his eyes flit shut, his fingers beginning to emit a careful, warm glow that was too soft to cast any real shadows, but it still made Sky uneasy. Granted, just about everything made him uneasy these days.

The light faded, and the relative darkness only made Sky shiver even more. 

“His internal organs are all intact and his muscles shouldn’t be too bad anymore. He’ll definitely feel it tomorrow, but honestly, I don’t know what you were expecting.”

Sky sighed. “It’ll have to be good enough. And Legend?”

“He could use another potion.” Hyrule’s eyes fell into Sky’s hands, before returning to his face. Sky prepared to look away, but Hyrule spoke before he got the chance, drawing his vision back. The traveler hero placed his uncovered, blood-red Triforce-marked hand over the potions in Legend’s own and his voice sliced through the night.

“I know you’re not going to tell me everything, but I need to know one thing, and I need you to swear on my life that you’ll tell me the truth.”

Sky cocked his head. “Yours?”

Hyrule rolled his eyes. “Making an idiot like you swear on your own life is meaningless, because you’d probably throw it away the first chance you get. So swear on mine. Swear you’ll tell me the truth.”

Sky looked away. “Depends on the question.”

Hyrule moved, positioning himself in front of Sky’s gaze. “ _ Could it happen again? _ ”

Sky stared past him, thinking. The Dark only ever affected the person whose cycle it was, and a cycle had never repeated—that he knew of.

“To my knowledge, it won’t happen again.”

Hyrule squinted. “Won’t?”

Sky nodded. “That’s all I have to work with. I’m really just as in the dark as the rest of you.”

And wasn’t that true? He still didn’t know what exactly was happening, why, who was next, it was only  _ that _ . He knew  _ that  _ something was happening. He knew  _ that  _ people were in danger. But they were  _ always  _ in danger and stuff was  _ always  _ happening. That’s called an  _ adventure _ . 

Hyrule wilted, though, and Sky took that as his opportunity to sidle his way to Legend and slide another potion down his throat. That meant they only had five health potions left and one magic one. 

Fresh cycle, three possibilities: Sky, Legend, and Twilight. With a start, Sky ripped his right glove from his hand and turned to look at its back. Nothing. Perhaps it was his left? It had been for Hyrule. His second glove fluttered to the ground and his hands remained bare. Reaching for Legend’s hands, Sky rolled up the limp teenager’s sleeves to smooth, yet faintly scarred, skin. Nothing and nothing. Twilight, then? Or was this some one-off thing—some special torment devised for Sky and Sky alone?

Who was he kidding, he’d already accepted that as his leading hypothesis. It made the most sense.

After all, this torment was befitting of only the worst criminal in the history of Hyrule.

Sky glanced up. The moon had trekked its steadfast course, though it hung as only the barest of slivers. Warriors’ watch would last a little while longer and he was in no shape to fill it. Sky could extend his own, then. It wasn’t like he’d actually be able to sleep.

Ignoring Legend’s charred clothing, most of the burns and external damage seemed to be clearing itself up. Hopefully Hyrule had fixed up his insides as well. 

“We should get them back to camp.”

Hyrule looked over at Sky. “And what about the others? What are we going to tell them?”

Sky sighed. “I worry. Morale is low, tensions are high, and I still remember that time I found myself at the business end of Warriors’ blade”—Hyrule had the good sense to look legitimately sheepish at the reminder of that particular incident—“the end is in sight, and we’re in hostile territory. It’s easiest to play it off as some sort of mysterious enemy that snuck into camp in the dead of night. That is, feign ignorance.”

Hyrule frowned. “I don’t like the idea of lying to everyone,” he sighed in defeat, “but I think you’re right.”

“We healed them a ton, though, and we can’t deny it, but it  _ does _ happen to be my watch at the moment, so I woke up to them bleeding out—Warriors is one of the victims so his watch is accounted for—and then I woke you and we healed them. That frees you from suspicion because you helped heal them, Warriors and Legend are clean because they’re the victims, and I—”

Hyrule gasped.

“Sky, they’ve suspected you before and you don’t have an alibi, how do you—”

He waved his hand. “Let them. This is all almost over, anyway. Once we defeat whatever’s in there, everything will be fine again.”

Hyrule cocked his head. “What do you mean? What makes you think that whatever’s in Arbiter’s Grounds is the, you know, the big one?”

Sky turned to face the dungeon behind them, looking up and away to hide the panic that momentarily laced his features.

“I can just  _ feel _ it. One way or another, this ends in there.”

Hyrule gasped a little. “This? As in,  _ us? _ ”

Sky eyed him a little. 

“Maybe.”

_ Hopefully.  _

“You don’t sound too upset by the prospect.”

Sky raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know. I really don’t.”

He turned back to Warriors and Legend, scooping his arms under the teen’s shoulders and knees. Hyrule had strength bracelets, so he could probably manage Warriors without too much trouble. 

The pair made their way back to camp and laid their charges by the fire, Sky taking care to gingerly tuck in the unconscious Legend. He started to unfasten his sailcloth before a thought occurred to him.

Was he endangering Legend by growing this close to him? If Sky was running with the theory that this entire quest was designed as a personal torture mechanism for himself specifically, it would naturally lend itself to the conclusion that if he got too close to Legend, something unspeakably horrible would befall the teen.

So, distance it was, then, he decided, sweeping his sailcloth back over his shoulder. Distance. 

Hyrule turned to face his bedroll, but when he spoke it was clearly intended for Sky.

“It would be weird if we found them wounded, healed them, and then went back to sleep without telling anyone. We can wait until they’ve all gotten some more rest, then we can wake them up and explain everything.”

Sky nodded.

“Sure.”

Hyrule turned to face him. “I still don’t know if they’ll believe you. You’ve just been acting so… so  _ off _ lately. Hell, I barely trust you as it stands.”

“I don’t blame you.” A sad scoff. “But I mean,” he gestured to his back, “I literally have the Master Sword. You  _ know _ I’m me.”

Hyrule pursed his lips. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Sky sat down by the fireside to wait out his watch, and was shocked when Hyrule plopped down beside him a few moments later, the thick blanket from his bedroll wrapped around his shoulders.

He tried his best to ignore Hyrule by his side and focus on what was important. Twilight was the one Sky would be watching like a hawk. There was no way he’d be able to pull the rancher’s gloves off without waking him, so the usual tactics would have to do. It was nice how easy it had gotten to tell who it was, what with the pool of possibilities steadily shrinking. Of course with it came the reminder that soon it would be Sky’s turn. At most he had six days, a little under a week. 

Or it could be three.

He lifted his gaze to the inky black towers of Arbiters’ Grounds, darkening the light of the stars with their silhouettes. Soon this would all be over. Soon. 

He’d make sure of it.

Hyrule didn’t say much at all and Sky had nothing to gain from him, so he let himself get lost in his thoughts, which was far less unpleasant than usual considering there were some legitimate thought processes occuring that weren’t a mental laundry list of every reason he was worthless.

A sliver of gold began to steep into the deep horizon, and Hyrule elbowed Sky gently through his blanket. Sky pulled himself to his feet and Hyrule tossed the bundle of fabric onto his bedroll.

“So.”

“So, there’s about an hour left of my watch” Sky started, “which means we found them two hours ago. Or, I did. Let’s stick as close to the actual story as possible, as they’d probably be able to see our footprints in the sand. And that ruin where you woke up is already covered in Warriors’ blood, so we really shouldn’t try and hide it.”

“True. You woke up, found them gone, and then discovered them in that ruin, called for me, and we healed them and brought them back here and considering that I was on first watch and you were on last watch and neither of us saw anything, we wanted to see if anyone else was up during Warriors’ watch.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Carefully shaking Legend’s shoulder, Sky managed to wake him, and Hyrule did the same to Warriors. They both awoke with a start, Warriors grimacing a little as he sat up, but otherwise showing no sign of having been stabbed three hours prior. Hylia, was he glad they had Hyrule. And potions. Though he supposed both of those were in limited supply now. Thanks to him. He shoved the self-loathing back into its closet in favor of feigning worry and confusion.

“Are you guys okay?! What happened? I found you burned, bleeding, and passed out in a ruin around the corner and between Hyrule and some potions, we just barely managed to heal you.”

Judging by the shock and slight worry on Hyrule’s face in the corner of his eye, he was doing a good job of keeping the ruse up. Too good.

“What the hell?!” Legend stared down at his tunic. “Did somebody light me on  _ fire? _ ”

“We were hoping you could answer that,” Sky chuckled, but then interrupted himself. “But seriously, though. Are you guys alright?”

“I feel fine,” Warriors mused, “but I’m definitely—” 

He cut himself off, then, frozen staring at the bloody red tear in his tunic, his chainmail still lying folded by his bedroll, unworn. His face unmoving, he ran his fingers over the exposed bandage around his stomach.

“Thank you. Hyrule, Sky.” Dawning horror filled his face as he realized just how  _ much _ blood had covered— _ still  _ covered—him and his tunic. His voice was empty, detached, as his hand fluttered over his bandages. “I don’t know where I’d be without you two.”

It was a wonder that Sky didn’t burst out laughing at the absurdity of it, but luckily Hyrule didn’t know enough to see why that was funny. Good. He’d keep it that way.

“Yeah, seriously, guys,” Legend added, drawing their attention, “thanks.”

“Wait, you guys mean to tell us you have no idea what happened to you? Warriors, you were  _ impaled. _ ”

Warriors and Legend looked to each other, but when they were met with identical faces of confusion, they turned back to Sky.

“Evidently not,” Legend mused, running a finger over his chin. “I honestly don’t remember anything after going to sleep last night.”

He frowned a bit.

“Hold on.”

Three pairs of eyes turned to him.

“I  _ didn’t _ go to sleep last night. I made a pointed effort to stay awake. But why…”

“I don’t know, I was on first watch and you seemed pretty asleep to me.”

“I don’t remember any of mine,” Warriors muttered. “Not waking up for it, nothing. Just going to bed the night before and then waking up with,” he gestured to himself, “this.”

But Legend’s mind was working, now, and he was piecing things together, clearly trying to pull himself back to that night. He’d latched onto something now, and this was the mind of a master adventurer at work. This was the mind that  _ should  _ have been on this whole mess. Not Sky’s.

“Hyrule.”

“Yeah?”

“What do you remember from last night?”

Hyrule frowned. “Dinner, watch, I don’t know, are you asking about anything specific?”

“Yeah. Do you remember telling me to take care of myself?”

Hyrule thought for a moment.

“Yeah.”

“What did you say to me? Verbatim.”

“Uh, ‘take care of yourself’?”

Legend furrowed his brow. “No. No, no, no, that’s not right. Something was wrong. Something was  _ wrong _ and I stayed up because of it.” His head snapped up in a moment of realization.

“Sky, you were there, right?”

“Yeah? We were all there last night.”

“But you heard me and Hyrule talking, right? You know what I mean. There was something off in the way he said that.”

This was to protect Legend. 

“He was just telling you to take care of yourself? I don’t know what’s getting you so worked up. I feel like you should take past-Hyrule’s advice and, you know, address the fact that we still have no idea what happened to you.”

Warriors quietly ran a hand down the frost of his blood-crusted tunic.

“But they’re  _ related _ ,” Legend insisted. “If I was making a point to be awake, I should have noticed something. I wouldn’t have gone to bed until I was satisfied, and I think I would have noticed whatever ended up setting me on fire.”

Sky breathed. Inhale. Exhale.

“That doesn’t quite hold up. It was a long stressful day and we were all on edge. Heck, you probably fell asleep shortly after getting into bed because Hyrule didn’t notice you awake during his entire watch. Nobody blames you for being paranoid. It’s been a weird couple of… well, a while.”

Legend’s brow furrowed, and he looked off to the side in thought.

“We were gonna wake the others and see if they had any idea what happened,” Hyrule offered, clearly relieved to be back on topic.

At Legend and Warriors’ nods and the steadily shrinking shadows untracing themselves from the lightening camp, Sky and Hyrule woke the others as gently as they could manage. The remaining five heroes took their places around the fire, Twilight casually, probably unconsciously touching the back of his hand constantly, but looking like he was making a concerted effort not to pull off his glove and look at whatever was there.

Sky pulled his eyes away from Twilight long enough to ask his question. When met with the expected utter confusion, he feigned surprised and remarked that at least  _ someone _ must have awoken at whatever commotion there had been.

What he didn’t expect was the hypothesizing.

“That’s a stab wound, so it couldn’t have been a Moblin, or even a Bokoblin because they don’t use swords, at least, not ones that would stab so cleanly.”

“You're right. They usually hack and slash more than stab.”

“Yeah, and this is the Bulbin camp, so you’d expect clubs and arrows, not…  _ this. _ ”

“Could it have been a fire arrow?”

“Maybe, but if it had hit him, there would have been an entrance wound and Sky and Hyrule would have noticed.”

“Some fire arrows have a blast radius on impact. It could have missed and he could have been caught up in the blast.”

“Bulbins shouldn’t have access to those arrows, and if they did,” Twilight gestured around him, “this would be a hell of a fight.”

The group quieted at that, scanning the area.

They all had so much knowledge, so much experience, and when they drew on it and shared it and bounced ideas off each other, they were able to quickly and efficiently present, evaluate, and reject hypotheses. 

How Sky wished he could tell them everything, to just jump up and  _ scream _ , scream and shout and cry until his throat  _ bled  _ from everything finally coming clean.

He’d sooner die.

As the other heroes discussed, the sky lightened, the sun took its perch, and Wild began to set up for breakfast. Sky made his way over and pretended to care about cooking with him, for no sake other than fraternizing with Wild would up his chances of getting into Twilight’s good graces.

There was of course, the second reason he was with Wild at the moment. Rations. He’d reached to grab a spice from the Sheikah Slate and quickly flicked through their supplies, trying to stop his dawning horror from showing on his face. 

Surely, surely Twilight knew how long it took them to cross this desert. 

Surely he had anticipated and planned for a return journey. Right? 

_ Right? _

Naturally, feeding nine hungry heroes three meals a day was going to be taxing, and there was certainly a hefty amount of food within the Sheikah Slate’s pages, but  _ damn. _

He really thought they would have had a little more water than that.

Every time they fought something big, a portal opened up, taking them to their next destination. If Twilight was banking on that “big baddie” in Arbiter’s Grounds being so  _ courteous  _ as to warp them somewhere they could get food and water and a nice, warm bed, then—

Sky scanned the horizon.

Only the arid, biting, sand-filled air howling its agony into the early morning stillness filled his ears. 

If there was nothing here after all…

Well, they’d done the Dark’s job for it. Their food could last them about a week. That wasn’t going to be enough to get out.  _ Holy sh*t  _ it  _ wouldn’t _ be enough to get out. It had taken them nine days to get in, and that was including the bullsh*t they pulled during Four’s cycle. There was no way they were going to do that again.

They were all going to f*cking die out here.

He grabbed the rock salt he’d been looking for and gently set the Sheikah Slate down by Wild’s side.

Breathe.

It was going to be okay.

He’d end it all.

Arbiter’s Grounds. 

This was it.

Either way, live or die, this was  _ it. _

Which, actually, as he thought about it, worked out rather nicely. He was steadily losing the goodwill of exactly everyone, but he only had to last another day or two without getting killed or disowned by them. He could probably manage that.

“It could be a warning,” Warriors mused.

“To what? Stay away? When have we literally ever done that in our entire lives?” Wind’s face shifted to a frown when nobody acknowledged his comment.

“Warriors has a point,” Legend mused, “I mean, think about it. Usually, dungeons like these are surrounded by monsters and chests and we’re drawn to them like flies because we have to defeat the monsters and get the what-have-you and this place is making a very concerted effort to  _ not  _ do that. It doesn’t want us here.”

Twilight laughed a little at that. “It most certainly does not.”

That was  _ not  _ helpful.

“Well if it didn’t want us here, what about… uh,” Four squirmed at the realization that everyone was still under the impression that Vio was dead, “the reason we were in such a hurry to get here in the first place?” 

Warriors hummed. “To be fair, the note never said where Vio was. We came to that conclusion ourselves. There’s a high probability that that was meant as a deterrent.”

Legend’s brow lowered. “That would explain the lack of monsters in the desert, too. They probably wanted us to think we were mistaken about where Vio was. The presence of monsters is always an indicator that we’re going where we should be.”

Time stood up at that, brushing sand from his chainmail. “If there’s something in here that doesn’t want us around, that’s all the more reason to redouble our resolve.”

Every face around the fire nodded, and the group’s attention shifted to other things, Four, Warriors, and Legend leaving to inspect the ruins that no doubt looked far worse in the clear light of day. 

There had been a lot of blood.

Sky trained all available attention onto Twilight, who returned to his bedroll, sitting down slowly, eyes trained on something in the distance as he let out an unsteady breath. Sky’s roiling thoughts snapped into perfect clarity and his eagle eyes spotted every movement. The slow sliding of his glove from his hand—his left, the one whose palm was facing Sky—and the contemplative rubbing of the back of his hand with his thumb. The slip of the glove back onto his hand. The slow shake of his shoulder and the sad, sad sigh.

There. 

It was him.

For real this time.

It was actually Twilight.

Okay.

Good.

Twilight loitered quietly by himself at the fringes of the group for the rest of the morning. Four, Warriors, and Legend returned, the latter two sporting new, not-horrifically-bloodstained tunics. Warriors wore, over his still-clean chainmail, a simple white tunic boasting a blue Hylian Crest. It must have been his old military uniform. Legend, on the other hand, wore a light blue-green tunic made from a loose sort of cloth, almost like silk, that rippled like seafoam on his sleeves and the pleats visible behind the wide flaps that hung down from a thicker blue vest-like garment with a high neck. It was a deep blue, and the white wave embroidery and lacing made the whole outfit very reminiscent of the ocean. He still had the same hat, though, and Sky figured that this was the outfit it came from originally. 

They returned to camp, Warriors sitting by the fire with a hollow look in his eyes. He’d definitely seen the blood.

After a solemn breakfast, the group set out, finally heading straight for the entrance to the dungeon itself. It seemed the night had desensitized them to the eerie scenery, though they were ever-vigilant after the confusion of the early morning. All things considered, it had gone rather smoothly, with the sentiment being that it was a warning of sorts from a mysterious enemy. The Dark really couldn’t blame Sky for that conclusion, so everyone should be safe, but it would prepare them all for the battle ahead, at least a little. 

He was startled from his thoughts by Twilight appearing at his side. 

_ Had he found a hole in Sky’s story? Had he sensed something as Wolfie? Was he here to _ —

“Hey, uh, Sky?”

“Yeah?”  _ pretend the fear in your voice is because Warriors and Legend got hurt. _

“Could I—Sorry if this is a weird question, but could I hold the Master Sword for a second? I, uh, I miss her.”

_ OH _ relief blossomed from every facet of Sky’s being  _ yes _ it was Twilight after all and he was asking for the sword this was _ perfect!  _

Somewhere to his side, he could have sworn he heard Legend cough.

Sky stiffened. Yeah, there was no way he’d get away with pulling that off twice, was there. Not with Hyrule and Legend there. Besides, the battle was closing in and Sky couldn’t afford to incapacitate another one of their number. 

_ But what if his number is fifty-seven, or something else altogether. That could make or break the countdown theory. _

He had to play the long game here. Hyrule and Legend were onto him and he  _ refused _ to let them get involved.

“Sure thing, Twili—”

As he held out the Master Sword, leaving enough space on the handle for the other hero’s hand, Twilight gripped the sword and, before Sky even realized what was happening, pulled the sword free from Sky’s hand.

Oh Hylia.

Oh no dear Hylia give it back give it back give it  _ back please Twilight please twilight TWILIGHT Hylia please someone anyone PLEASE give it back give it back give it BACK I NEED it I _ —

“Woah, Sky, are you okay?”

Twilight was kneeling down by Sky’s side— _ oh goddesses everything was spinning when did he get on the floor? _ —and had placed one hand on Sky’s shoulder. It was trying to be steadying, maybe, but it  _ seared _ his skin and Sky silently reached forward and pulled the blade from Twilight’s other hand, clutching it close to his chest and rising to his feet in a rush, head still light. 

Everyone was staring at him now, and he was only just then aware that he was hyperventilating and his legs were shaking. 

Someone gave some sort of order, then, and everyone sat down, probably taking some sort of break— _ they’d just started walking, too, this is all your f*cking fault you’re holding them back you’re wasting time every second you waste is one more second in which something can go wrong before this all ends stupid stupid STUPID! All this practice and you haven’t changed! You’ll NEVER CHANGE! NEVER! YOU’LL ALWAYS BE THE SAME STUPID, SELFISH, WORTHLESS _ —

There was a hand. A pressure on his arm. It burned, but it coaxed his left hand to loosen its grip on the Master Sword. It worked its way down to his elbow, his forearm, his wrist, until it slipped into his own hand.

And then it squeezed.

And something in Sky  _ burst _ and he melted, sinking back to his knees, absently resheathing the Master Sword.

And he squeezed back, weakly.

Then came Twilight’s shockingly unsteady voice.

“I’m, I’m _so_ _sorry_ , Sky, if I’d known, I never would have—”

Someone must have stopped him because he quieted. Hyperventilating, hands shaking, unable to stand, Sky still trained his eyes carefully on where Twilight sat down, guarded his hand with his body, and moved in a way that he  _ must _ have been peeking at his number. So he  _ was _ trying to use the Master Sword as a curse breaker, then. He wanted to get rid of the number. And, as had happened every time before, it hadn’t worked. 

If he’d just  _ watched _ what those who borrowed the Master Sword had done with it, could he have found this out sooner? Oh f*ck, he was still shaking, how long had it been? They all thought he was insane, didn’t they, oh Hylia, look at him,  _ look at him,  _ a pathetic, sniveling wreck. 

His breaths redoubled.

He  _ was _ going insane wasn’t he. Wasn’t he? Probably, right? Insane people didn’t think they were insane, was that the saying? He had been joking that this would drive him mad, but maybe it had, maybe he was already hopeless, maybe he was nothing more than a rabid—

_ Squeeze _ .

Sky’s gaze flitted to Legend’s but there was no sound. His mouth was moving, but there was a swirling cacophony of silent noise that berated the inside of Sky’s head and all he could hear were screams.

Legend’s lips moved and it looked like he might be asking if Sky could breathe for him.

Breathe?

Breathe.

Sky could do that.

He breathed very carefully these days, especially when he was about to lie to someone. Yeah, just pretend he was about to lie to someone, like he had to Legend that morning, telling him that Hyrule hadn’t been suicidal. That. Somehow, he started to calm down. This mystery had become his constant, his puzzle, his ever-present distraction from the war that raged on endlessly inside his head. 

Just think about the puzzle.

Warriors, Wind, Wild, Four, Time, Hyrule, Twilight.

His breathing slowed.

It didn’t matter who was next because there wouldn’t be a next. Sky would end this.

Inhale.

He couldn’t tell anyone about any of it. That was another constant.

Exhale.

He couldn’t get close to them either. That would only endanger them.

Inhale.

He pulled his hand from Legend’s and watched the kid’s eyes go wide a little.

He’d end it all in Arbiter’s Grounds and then Legend would never have to be affected, never have to be a victim.

Exhale.

Not like Hyrule had been.

Sky rose to his feet.

Inhale.

Hyrule, who had asked Warriors to kill him.

Exhale.

“Let’s get moving.”

Legend stepped in front of Sky. “Sky, are you  _ okay? _ ”

Sky looked down— _ down, because Legend was shorter, he was still so young, barely any more than a child _ —at Legend, who could see through him in an instant— _ where had he learned a skill like that? That discernment _ —at the kid he would protect. He had failed, every step of the way. Every single person he’d tried to protect, he’d failed to.

But not Legend.

“I’m fine. Just… let me hang onto the sword for now. It, uh, it was really important during my last adventure so…”

He trailed off, hoping the others would find that somehow relatable enough to let go. 

By some miracle, they did, and the group began to move again.

Legend’s hand drifted over to Sky’s as they did so, but Sky clenched his fist.

He wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t endanger Legend. 

_ Hylia, he wanted to hold Legend’s hand so bad _ —NO. Think about the quest. The mystery.

Right. 

Right, okay. Where did he leave off? Warriors. Hyrule asked Warriors to kill him. Hyrule had  _ told  _ Warriors something. Enough to get Warriors to agree to kill him. 

They weren’t bound to secrecy.

_ They weren’t bound to secrecy. _

_ They could have TOLD HIM EVERYTHING! THE WHOLE F*CKING TIME, COULDN’T THEY! _

_ TWILIGHT COULD BE TELLING HIM EVERYTHING RIGHT NOW! _

_ BUT THEY HADN’T. _

_ BECAUSE HE. HADN’T. BEEN. GOOD. ENOUGH. _

What if Sky had anticipated? Had gone to everyone that was left and said  _ if anything happens, I need you to tell me about it _ and then followed up on whoever it was?  _ WHY HADN’T HE DONE THAT?! _ It seemed so OBVIOUS now, GODDESSES, he was a fool.  _ Legend _ would have thought of that.  _ Literally anyone  _ would have thought of that.  _ Sky,  _ of all people had thought of it, but he was  _ too f*cking late! _

AS

ALWAYS.

It was no use thinking of it  _ now,  _ because there wouldn’t  _ be  _ another cycle. No, and after his f*cking panic attack, there was no way Twilight would accept inquiries into his _ own _ well-being without asking his own against Sky and he was having more and more trouble getting around those kinds of questions.

Breathe.

They reached the entrance to a tunnel, and Twilight let out a sigh of relief.

The strange, angular entrance, crafted from geometrically carved light-colored rocks lined with gold rose proudly from the dark, reddish stone.

They ventured inside, the light at the other side already visible.

They stepped out of the cool of the shade, into the brilliant sunlight. Exclamations of awe rose from the group. They had been well-earned. An angular stone staircase adorned with banisters of gold rose before them, lined with great stone columns that rose up, some broken and chipped, yet all of them eroded down by the harsh sands of the desert. At the top of the staircase stood a door, that same geometric stone embellishment rising stalwart from the bricks, crowned with a Hylian Crest, wings chipped and broken off at their tips, yet still in shining, searing gold. Two pillars arose on either side, higher than the rest, and topped with those shimmering golden ornaments that had hung in their vision for all those weeks. Now they leered directly overhead, their emblems burning into the ground as dark shadows cast by the blinding sunlight. Behind those loomed the layers of arches carved along the curve of the circular structure that was flanked by more towers, all of it gleaming in the sunlight, the distinctly Hyrulean flair of the wings that ringed the crests sending a chill down Sky’s spine.

What kind of prison ground flaunted the Hylian Crest in burning gold?

Twilight took a step up the stairs.

What kind of prison had golden banisters and columns of all things?

What  _ was _ this place?

Twilight spun to face the heroes before him and sucked in a breath. His expression crystalized into one of determination as he looked over his shoulder at the building behind him.

“This is it.”

He turned fully to face it, Time taking a step up next to him and placing a steadying hand on Twilight’s shoulder. Sky hadn’t even realized Twilight had been shaking. 

“Welcome to Arbiter’s Grounds.”

There was a moment of silence as everyone processed what he’d just said.

Wind stared up at the banisters. “ _ What  _ did you say this was supposed to be again?”

Hyrule turned all around, taking it in. “It’s like no dungeon I’ve ever seen before.”

Legend learned over, looking at the writing engraved into the banister with a small frown.

“It used to be a prison ground,” Twilight answered, still staring ahead. “This is where you go to find old ghosts and even older evils.”

This. A prison ground. 

How many people had lived here? Died here?

Been tortured here.

The arid burn of sand in his nostrils took on a scent of decay as the wind shifted and he wasn’t the only one who shivered. This place was gorgeous, stunning, a masterpiece, yet it was still filled with the stench of blood,  _ how much blood _ —was this blood that had been shed at the hands of the royal family,  _ his  _ family? He was going to start this all, right? He was going to cause the creation of this, this  _ unholy _ death pit that had the crest of his people, his  _ kingdom _ plastered over every inch of it, all of it searing with gold. Were they  _ proud  _ of this place? This place with a cold, dark shadow and a cruel wind that reeked of death.

Sky took a step backwards.

This place wasn’t cursed.

It  _ was _ the curse.

Was that Dark a, what was it,  _ even older evil  _ or was it something newer that had moved in? It hadn’t haunted them before they entered Twilight’s world—that he knew of. Was it bound to this place, or had it merely been biding its time?

He sucked in a breath.

This was it.

He stepped up onto the staircase on the other side of Twilight, Legend taking the place next to Sky and Wild moving onto the other side of Time, the rest standing ready behind them. Twilight inhaled, and then he exhaled, and then he took another step. And another. The rest followed suit, watching the columns, pillars, and distant boulders sink away around them. They found themselves before the door, dried, hollowed out skulls laying haphazardly by its side, staring with their empty eyes into the sky.

“Take a nice long look.” Twilight grimaced. “We probably won’t be seeing the sky for a while.”

“Then we’ll get to fight in the shade,” Wind returned, placing his hand on Twilight’s arm. Sky could have sworn he saw the older hero’s face lighten the slightest bit.

“That we most certainly will.”

“So,” Wind looked up to Twilight, “in we go?”

Twilight nodded. “In we go.”

And in they went.

* * *

When Sky had stood outside Arbiter’s Grounds and lamented the stench of decay, he decided, he really should have shut his mouth.

That was  _ nothing _ compared to the inside.

Stairs descended down, dim torches flickering along the walls, and skulls littering the floor. They weren’t human—thank  _ Hylia _ . Their teeth were too sharp and snouts too long, not to mention the spines that ran down their backs—but they were eerie nonetheless. There were at least a dozen in this room alone. This room that proudly boasted, hanging over the door in gold that burned like the sun in the meager firelight, yet another Hylian Crest. Behind the door looked to be a small staircase, though Sky couldn’t see what was at the top of it.

In the center of the room, however, was a great pit of sand, sinking eternally into a deep, dark, center. Assorted pieces of rubble stood around it, but the air was thick with fine sand.

Sky couldn’t help but cough.

“Gods, this place is oppressive,” Warriors muttered under his breath.

Wind peeked around towards the front, but then took a very large step away from the edge. 

“Okay, Twi, what’s the game plan for not dying in quicksand?”

He pointed to the torch on the wall, flicking behind a cage.

“That.”

Sky squinted. He could  _ probably _ clawshot to that if he—Twilight interrupted him by doing just that, launching himself onto the raised platform. 

“How many of you all have clawshots?”

Sky and Warriors raised their hands. 

Twilight frowned.

“I have two of them,” Sky offered, presenting his own.

“I do as well, but that’s still only five between the nine of us.”

“There’s no shortage of hookshots among us,” Legend offered, pulling two from his pouch, “but I don’t see anything made of wood in here.”

“There isn’t in the whole temple,” Twilight scowled. “Just sand and stone.”

Sky looked down at the shifting temple floor. “Can’t you use your sand rod?”

Legend leaned over the edge, looking dubiously into the churning pit of quicksand. “Not likely. If I make a block, it’ll sink right in.”

“What exactly can hookshots attach to?” all eyes were drawn to Four, many looking pleasantly surprised that he seemed to be back to his old self.

“Wood, certain enemies, just about anything soft that something like this could find purchase in,” Time explained, handing his longshot to Four, who examined it curiously.

“We could always pass the clawshots back and forth like we did with the paraglider and Sailcloth over the canyon,” Legend offered, resting his hand on his chin.

“We could,” Four started, “but if we can work out a system that can get everyone across quickly now, then that’ll save time later. Those canyon crossings were one-offs, but if this dungeon is from Twilight’s world, my guess is that it’s going to be accessible by at least some equipment that only exists here so we’re probably going to need to do a lot of this.”

On the raised platform, Twilight’s face filled with realization before he smacked both his hands over his face and groaned, drawing everyone’s attention.

Wild spoke first. “What’s wrong, Twilight?” 

Legend rolled his eyes. “Let me guess, you just remembered something horrifically obnoxious about the design of this entire dungeon.”

Twilight dragged his hands down his face. “No, it was the only redeemable quality about this hellhole.”

Sky felt something spark in his memory at the phrase. He and Twilight spoke at the same time.

“The Spinner.”

Hopping off the platform, Twilight pulled that large top item lined with geometric teeth from his pouch and dropped it beneath him, landing on it and gliding over the sand, snatching it off the ground as he stumbled to the area where the rest of the Links were watching with various degrees of shock and awe.

“That’s… an oddly specific item.”

“Oh, it absolutely is. It’s almost entirely useless outside of here, where special tracks for it run all up and down the walls—”

“The  _ walls? _ ”

“—but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. In the meantime, we need to figure out what to do about this clawshot predicament.”

Four’s eyes were closed, and Sky didn’t doubt that every single piece of him was thinking as hard as they could. Or however that all worked. “It sounds like the principle issue is the fact that you can get to places that we cannot, so our goal is to be able to get to where you are.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“So if we developed a strategy by which we could consistently get everyone to claw-and-hookshot to your person, this whole dungeon should be a breeze. You already have the dungeon’s key item, so it should be pretty straightforward as long as we can follow you.”

Twilight replaced his spinner with his clawshot and examined the talons, opening and closing them absentmindedly and glancing down at himself. He spotted his leather-covered forearm and slowly latched the clawshot around his bracer.

“No way in hell,” came Time’s firm veto. “That can’t be any good for your arm  _ or _ your armor.”

“It’s not so different from my falcon back home,” Twilight muttered under his breath, but conceded, “it wouldn’t work for a hookshot anyway. They only attach to—” he started, pulling his wooden shield from his back “—wood?”

Wind pinched the edge of the shield, eyeing it dubiously. “It’s pretty hard and thin. I wouldn’t trust hookshotting this without splitting it.  _ Unless, _ ” he pulled a length of rope ending in a grappling hook from his own pouch and began wrapping it around Twilight’s shield, fastening it with a sharp tug on a knot.

Time reached over, tapping the point of his hookshot against the makeshift target. “I’m willing to give it a shot.”

Twilight took the shield from Wind, all the while squinting at Time. “Was that a pun, Old Man?”

Time said nothing and Sky couldn’t make out his facial expression from where he was standing, but Twilight pouted at it and clawshotted back over to the light, surveying the group.

“Okay, who here has a hookshot?”

Time, Legend, and Wind all raised their hands. With the clawshots between Twilight, Sky, and Warriors, that left Hyrule, Four, and Wild. There were two extra clawshots and one extra hookshot, so with Sky giving one of his to Four and Twilight his spare to Wild, Legend handed one of his hookshots to Hyrule.

Warriors joined Twilight on the platform to free up space by the entrance, but in the corner of his eye, Sky watched Warriors stumble and clutch his midsection.  _ No f*cking wonder! He’d just been stabbed that morning! Just when Sky thought he couldn’t get any more stupid, he had to go and outdo himself by completely forgetting about Warriors’ injury.  _

Four pulled him from his thoughts with a question on how to operate the clawshot, and Sky tried his best to pay attention. The kid held the item almost reverently, and it was then that Sky remembered that the last time Four had seen it, he’d been using its chain to pull Sky out of that chasm in which he almost fell to his death.

That memory took on a whole new level of f*cked up when Sky realized how it was almost exactly the reverse of when he’d had to save Four. The second time.

That quickly extinguished any rising satisfaction he’d felt with the group’s problem solving.  _ None of this was a f*cking joke. _ Sure, it was easier to forget everything due to the sudden change in scenery, but— _ forget, no, he couldn’t forget, he couldn’t let this f*cking death trap and its puzzles distract him from what really mattered. _

Once Four and Wild fired a few practice shots into the sand, they launched themselves up to the platform, earning high-fives and hair ruffles from Warriors.

Sky hung back as Wind stepped to the edge, Twilight directing the three who were with them on how to get to the other end of the room in order to make space on the platform. They’d reached the platform by the door, then, one level with the floor there, but the gap between them was all quicksand.

“Hey, Twi, what do we do over here?”

Twi glanced over, squinting. “Oh, just run across it. It’s not far.”

Four took a few uncertain steps away from the edge.

Wild hopped up and down a bit before sprinting straight over it, the sand only coming up to his ankles before he skidded to a stop by the door. Four placed his hand on Warriors’ arm, his posture full of concern. Warriors gave a curt nod to Four, moving to the edge and taking a breath, grimacing from the movement on his midsection. Wild and Four exchanged a glance, but Warriors dashed across anyway, every step sinking further into the sand until he was up to his knees, struggling to move his legs at all. He grunted, trying to push forward, but he flinched from the movement, his hand flying to his stomach. Wild rushed to the edge, leaning as far over as he could and snatching the sleeve of Warriors’ chainmail, dragging him onto solid ground. Warriors knelt on the ground, clutching his abdomen and panting heavily. 

Wild knelt by his side, leaning over to try and get a look at what was wrong. He froze, his hand hovering over—if Sky wasn’t mistaken—a growing patch of red.

Wild ordered him not to move and Warriors only nodded, pouring the sand from his boots. Wild looked back to Four, who thought for a moment before steeling himself carefully. 

“Alright I’m going to rush forward with my pegasus boots, but I don’t want to smack into the wall so you’re going to have to catch me.”

Wild nodded, readying his stance, and a  _ tap tappity tap _ echoed against the walls before Four  _ shot _ forward, sprinting right over the surface of the sand and smushing himself into the arms of Wild, who welcomed the hug happily, though it didn’t last long.

After ensuring that they all made it to the entrance in one piece, Twilight strapped his feet into a pair of boots that looked to be made of metal. He could barely walk in them, which seemed to be the point, as he lowered into his stance and brandished his new hookshot target. Wind sucked in a breath and blew it out.

“Three.”

“Two,” Twilight answered.

“One,” Wind called as he launched his hookshot forward, the point burying itself in the tangle of rope and holding firm, dragging him off his feet and across the room to where he stumbled into Twilight, who clutched him to his chest with his free hand. Wind squirmed free and jumped into the air, letting out a raucous cry of “ _ YES! _ ”

Everyone flinched at that, listening carefully as the word echoed around the room, spilling up the stairs and down into the room and side rooms, the word reverberating deep into the unholy cracks and recesses of the deathly silent tomb, returning back to their ears again and again, slightly warped each time.

“Oops,” he muttered, stepping sheepishly back as Warriors slipped his foot back into his boot and rose unsteadily to his feet. He drew his sword, pressing his back against the wall and moving away from the room’s exit, eyeing it carefully with Four and Wild by his side. They began to relax when they heard no answer, but Warriors never resheathed his sword.

Twilight closed his eyes and sighed.

“Let’s not assume this place is abandoned just yet. Most of the enemies in here can’t be seen by the naked eye at first.”

“Hey Twilight,” Wild whisper-shouted from across the room, “what the  _ f*ck _ is that supposed to mean?”

“It means they’re either invisible ghosts or they’re buried in the sand,” Twilight answered simply, pointing the path ahead out to Wind.

“Thanks, I hate it,” Wild mumbled to himself, Hyrule asking a question in his stead.

“So how do you go about fighting them if they’re invisible?”

Twilight started a little at that, breaking eye contact with Hyrule.

“Usually, Wolfie did it,” he backpedaled when worry briefly crossed Hyrule’s features, “but don’t worry, I can do it, too.”

“I managed to see invisible stuff on my adventures, too. I’m sure it’ll be okay!”

Twilight sobered a bit at Hyrule’s attempts to comfort him. “Yeah. It’ll be okay.”

Their conversation was cut off by Twilight bracing himself for the impact of Time’s hookshot before he steadied himself for the next one. Legend explained how to use his hookshot to Hyrule while Sky clawshotted to the light fixture, absently patting Twilight on the shoulder as he followed Time to the other end of the room. Wind, however, stood on the other side of the quicksand from the others, eyeing the expanse mistrustfully.

“I—I don’t think I can run across it.”

“You can do it!” Wild encouraged, holding out his arms welcomingly.

“I-I don’t have pegasus boots and I’m not a very fast runner. I’d sink.”

“Roll across it!” Twilight called, Hyrule now by his side. “You sink slower that way.”

Wind nodded, turning back to the quicksand again. He collected himself and then dove into a roll, sand clinging to his hair and tunic, but he stumbled to his feet and managed to get far enough that Wild could grab him by the shoulders and pull him out, brushing him off. Before long, the rest of them made it to the end of the room, Twilight gliding over the last patch of sand on his spinner.

“Onwards?” Legend glanced around the group.

“Not so fast,” came Wild’s response. He marched up to Warriors and pressed an accusatory finger to the Captain’s chest. “ _ You’re  _ injured.”

Warriors tensed and Hyrule rushed to his side. “Oh goddesses, I’m an idiot. I should never have let you set foot in here in this condition. Either way, clawshots are off-limits for you.”

Twilight placed a comforting hand on his shoulder while Sky peered into the next room. “The next room is a perfect stopping point. We can stay there for a while.”

“But we’ve only just started,” protested Warriors, but he was immediately shot down by everyone else.

“Doesn’t matter,” Hyrule ordered, shocking everyone, “every movement you make is only going to aggravate it.” 

Warriors opened his mouth again, but Hyrule cut him off, his voice haunted.

“ _ You didn’t see it this morning. _ ”

That much was true, and served to bring an end to Warriors’ resistance.

“Besides,” Twilight addressed the group, “the room after it normally has enemies, and from there on in, there’s not a single room I’d feel comfortable spending the night in anyway.”

The group shivered at that, making their way up the stairs into a small squarish room with two branching alcoves, one containing a pot and the other, the wooden carnage dangling from the doorframe implying that it had once been barred, leading to a small side room with some platforms, some quicksand, and little else. 

“Alright, let’s stop here for the night,” Twilight decided, gesturing to the room. 

“The  _ night? _ ” Warriors’ eyes grew wide.

“We want to make sure we’re getting enough rest before the big fight,” Four mused, “we can’t let the lack of a visible nighttime keep us up too late.” 

Legend nodded. “Especially if we’re not traversing the whole dungeon. We should try to follow the day and night cycle as closely as we can.”

“I never got very good at that in dungeons,” Hyrule rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

“What are you  _ talking _ about?” Warriors admonished. 

Legend scoffed. “What, haven’t you ever traversed a dungeon before?”

“No, actually!”

Legend only laughed.

Hyrule weakly patted him on the shoulder, glancing worriedly at the cold stone walls around them. “Legend, please don’t tease him.”

Legend sobered, dropping into a sitting position with a slouch. They sat in silence for a second, the loose shifting of sand trickling down from the ceiling in the nearby alcove an eerie ambience against the deathly silent tomb.

“Because you can’t see the sky in dungeons,” Time explained quietly to Warriors, “it’s easy to completely lose track of all time in them. If you stay down here long enough, your body will get thrown out of whack. You might start to stay awake for up to twenty-five hours at a time and only sleep for ten.”

Sky quietly stepped away from the group. Fi always kept track of time for him, telling him when to wake up and go to bed. She always took care of him. They didn’t have that luxury, even those that had the sword on their adventures were all alone, they—

“And you’ll think you were down there for only half of the time you were. It takes some getting used to,” Legend muttered, solemn.

They were  _ used to it, Hylia,  _ why did Sky think he could protect Legend? Clearly he’d already failed him. Every dungeon Legend had to suffer through, every struggle he’d ever faced, all of it fell on Sky’s head.  _ Sky’s _ . He needed that reminder. To keep him humble, to strengthen his resolve. All of this was his fault. His and his alone.

Killing that dark, utterly destroying it, that role fell to him.

He accepted it  _ ravenously _ .

Warriors slouched a little bit and Hyrule moved to his side, carefully unwinding his bandages.

“Did you, uh,” he grimaced a little as Hyrule exposed his wound, “did you always do dungeons alone?”

Sky couldn’t listen to this anymore. He turned back towards the door, watching everyone in his periphery settle onto their bedrolls to quietly reminisce. 

“Yep,” Legend popped the ‘p,’ leaning back on his hands as a low, warm glow dripped from Hyrule’s fingertips, Warriors sighing in relief.

Faintly behind him, he heard Twilight calling out to the others. “Whatever you do, don’t go into the next room. Usually it’s full of quicksand and skeletons and I’d rather not risk combat right now. Especially with the way our last couple of fights have been.”

Sky quietly slipped back into the first room, reaching the bottom of the stairs and curling in on himself, pressing his back against the wall. He rested his head on his knees and closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing, but his self-loathing welled up, those bundles of agony carefully packaged and squirreled away into the deepest recesses of his mind finally unfurling themselves and crawling to the forefront, reminding him of every way he’d messed up. He’d gotten hurt like an idiot back in Warriors’ cycle, he hadn’t noticed  _ anything _ that was going on because he was too caught up in his own head,  _ hell, that’s what he was doing right now. _ He could have been gathering information on everyone’s adventures, or questioning Twilight, but no, here he was, curled up in a corner, struggling to breathe. He was  _ stupid stupid stupid STUPID STUPID STUPID! HE KNEW THIS! _

_ NONE OF THIS WAS NEWS! _

_ SO WHY DID IT HURT SO MUCH! _

_ WHY WAS THE WOUND ALWAYS SO FRESH?! _

_ HE KNEW HE WAS AN IDIOT! _

_ HE KNEW HE WAS A FAILURE! _

So why did every time hurt just like the first. Why?  _ WHY?! _

His mind helpfully supplied the memory of Legend kicking him awake, shouting at him for sleeping through so much of the battle. That had been Wind’s cycle, hadn’t it. Hylia, it had been so long since they’d seen combat. Was that fight during Wind’s cycle really their last? With the stampede, the aeralfos, the arrow in Time’s leg, it all felt so far away. How long ago had that even been? It was Wind’s cycle, so there was one day for Twilight’s, three for Hyrule’s, Time’s, Four’s and—

“Sky?”

He shot to his feet, stumbling backwards with his hand on the hilt of the Master Sword, breaths still racing.

Of course it was Legend.

Sky leaned back and let his back smack into the wall, sliding down into a seated position again, Legend by his side— _ between him and the door _ .

Legend didn’t acknowledge Sky’s presence any more than he already had, sitting down against the wall and staring forward in silence for a while.

Sky let his thoughts drift back to where they always went, the mystery, the evidence, before Legend spoke again.

“Do you remember that time you found me in the woods and I was… a pink rabbit?”

Sky side-eyed him. How could he forget?

“Did you ever wonder why I was a pink rabbit, of all things?”

In all honesty, Sky hadn’t given it much thought at first, thinking that that was somehow part of whatever spell had happened. Now that he knew it was the same mechanism through which Twilight became Wolfie, it only seemed to imply that the pink rabbit was something unique to Legend.

At Sky’s silence, Legend elaborated.

“I was a good kid. Well, that’s an understatement. The grown-ups used to call me ‘sweet little Link.’ I liked it, actually” he laughed a little, fond, “and looking back, they really weren’t wrong. I was a little shy, quiet sometimes, but always offered to help anyone and everyone with whatever needed to be done.”

His voice grew solemn with his story. “So, when exposed to the Dark World’s magic, my true form really would have been a pink rabbit. I was just…  _ like _ that.”

Sky could hardly believe it. If it wasn’t for what Legend had said next, he wouldn’t have.

“Then, well, sh*t happened.”

Sky hugged his knees tighter. If this was going where he thought it was going, he was going to pitch himself into the quicksand. If he could drown fast enough, Legend wouldn’t be able to save him in time. Besides, the mystery, the cycles, that was all just to torment Sky, right? So if he died, everything would be okay for everyone else. Was he being selfish just by staying alive? That sounded about right by this point. Was Legend still talking? Maybe. But he didn’t even want to hear it anymore. No. No, he didn’t. He didn’t want to hear it at all. Which was exactly why he would do his best to listen. He needed to know exactly what he had done to Legend because he needed to make  _ sure _ he’d protect the kid at all costs. From here on out. No more failures. He’d swear it on his life.

“Sparing you the details, I went through some sh*t and, ‘cause I had to deal with most of it alone, I grew quieter and quieter. Skittish, honestly, probably more like a rabbit than ever,” he tried to laugh it off, but he knew it wasn’t the kind of thing that could be made funny. “Though I guess that was the beginning of my bitter streak. But when, uh, I thought I finally had my shot at happiness, and lost it, I guess I gave up. Resigned myself to misery.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Sky croaked, trying to cough away the emotion, but it got caught in his throat, all the sand he’d inhaled suddenly deciding to remind him of its existence.

“Because,” Legend turned to Sky, placing his hands on Sky’s shoulders and staring into his eyes, “I can tell something far worse is happening to you.”

Sky choked a little, trying to look away. Legend let him pull one shoulder away but held onto the other, rubbing it gently.

“I  _ know _ hiding it only makes it worse. Believe me, please, I know. I’ve  _ been _ there. I know what drives you to hiding it all, the tactics you teach yourself, the lies you tell, praying that you’ll believe them. I  _ know, _ Sky.”

Sky buried his face into his knees, tucking them closer to him and trying to ignore Legend’s hand on his shoulder.

Legend paused, and Sky was vaguely aware of the veteran’s eyes on him. There was silence for a moment, but he eventually decided to continue, voice filled with determination.

“But there was once thing I promised myself. One thing that kept me going as I saved the world that last time, when I felt that I had no reason to bother at all.”

Legend’s hand moved up towards his face, Legend carefully brushing away the hair that was pinched between Sky’s face and the fabric of his pants. Ever so slightly, Sky relaxed, somehow finding the courage to pull his face away from where it had been safely hidden away. 

“If I didn’t do it, save the world, then someone else would have to. And I refused to allow that. The promise I made myself was that nobody, not anyone ever again, would have to go through what I did.”

He finally shifted his gaze away from Sky, staring into nowhere.

“You can probably imagine how I felt when I found out where Hyrule fell in our timeline.”

Sky couldn’t help but gasp, the sound thick and viscous in his throat. He wanted to protest, to scream and shout, this was  _ his _ fault, his alone,  _ he  _ was the reason Legend was no longer that sweet little kid. All of his scars, all of his blood.

Sky’s hands.

Legend shifted, clearly trying to clarify his point as best he could.

“So I can’t imagine how you feel being first, how much blame you must be shoveling onto your own shoulders.”

Sky’s face was doubtless red, but he began to feel legitimate pain in his cheeks, as though he were being burned. He dug his nails into the palms of his hands,  _ hard, they were longer now,  _ and his ears filled up with static, but not so much that he couldn’t hear what Legend said next.

“I… Sky,” Sky’s breaths steadily accelerated at the tone that promised a gentle, yet impossible question. “How are you  _ really? _ ”

Legend’s words had landed on an inhale, but when Sky went to exhale, he found he didn’t have the strength, his breath catching in his throat. Thoughts, words, jabs, agonies, all of them spiraling through his mind at every waking moment. All he had to do was pick one, any one, and Legend would understand. But no, his breathing wavered, his blood seared his skin, and he crumbled into Legend’s arms like the loose sand that streamed in through the cracks in the ceiling, piling up, only to knock itself back down again, grating, shapeless, shivering, sinking endlessly into the depths. 

And Sky sobbed. 

For the first time since this sh*tshow started, he finally let himself sob.

Legend’s arms were awkward but determined as they pulled Sky close, letting Sky lean forward, his full weight thrust onto Legend, who welcomed it, hugging him tight, but not overly so, one hand carefully carding through Sky’s hair, the other gently rubbing his back. Legend was warm, something Sky welcomed in the cool of the crypt, and he was warm and safe and  _ alive _ in Sky’s arms. Legend’s heart beat quick and strong in his chest, Sky’s ear pressed against it, feeling its careful rise and fall in time with his breathing, his smooth, steady breathing that only slowed as he and Sky grew comfortable. So comfortable, in fact, that Sky could already feel his mind stilling. That heavy, sticky stillness that always preceded sleep, that beckoned it in, that welcomed it and Sky had been staving it off for far too long. After all, Legend couldn’t drill him with questions if he was unconscious, right?

* * *

Whispers.

Hushed, quick but emphatic, they dragged him back to awareness, and he scrunched up his face subconsciously, listening carefully.

“...dow, what the hell?”

A slight pause.

“Hold on, I can barely see you.”

Dead silence save a slight rustling.

“I don’t want to wake them up, stupid!”

Sky looked down at where Legend’s arms were tossed lazily over his form, the teen’s lap a makeshift pillow for Sky’s head. Twilight’s pelt had been tossed over them at some point, and Sky couldn’t help the irritated scowl that slipped onto his face. They should mind their own f*cking business. All of them. Goddesses. 

He managed to untangle himself from the soundly sleeping Legend, tucking Twilight’s pelt under Legend’s arms as a sort of hollow substitute.

Stepping away and stretching—they’d had the good sense not to remove his sword, he noted—he stepped carefully up the stairs, freezing when he heard the sounds of someone stirring.

“Four,” came Twilight’s steady, curious voice, “is there someone in your shadow?”

From his vantage point halfway up the stairs, Sky managed to make out the wavering golden light of a small lamp Four was holding, his shadow flickering across the wall behind him.

Four jumped at the question, the lamp swinging and sending shadows swirling around the room.

“What? Definitely not. No way. That’s absurd!” It all came out in a rush and Sky held his breath, hoping the pair wouldn’t notice him watching.

Twilight exhaled sharply then, breaking into a laugh. It was an awkward, stilted thing, more strangled than any laugh had the right to be, but Twilight looked legitimately happy as he did.

“Looks like your friend has other plans,” he chuckled, gesturing to the wall. “They just waved at me.”

Four spun to face the wall, holding the lantern outstretched behind him so as not to move his silhouette on the wall.

“Shadow, I hate you so much right now.”

_ Shadow?! _

Sky sucked in a breath, but something inside him forced it out immediately, panicking, frantically taking in air and expelling it immediately, pumping Sky’s lungs full of that thick, thickening scent of decay.

He rushed a hand over his mouth, forcing him to breathe through his nose and remain quiet.

_ Doppelgangers, copies, duplicates, darks, whatever you want to call them. _

_ They’re shadowy or silhouettes. _

The hand that wasn’t over his mouth, physically holding him back from  _ shrieking _ , drifted towards the handle of the Master Sword.

Four seemed unworried. What could this mean? Had he forgotten everything that had  _ happened  _ to him? That that Dark had put him through?  _ Actually, though, he could have legitimately forgotten.  _ Did that thing have him under its spell? It only seemed to be growing in how much power it exerted over them. Even Twilight wasn’t worried, and he should  _ know _ the dangers of this place.  _ It’s his cycle, _ Sky reminded himself,  _ he’s going to be acting oddly _ . This was a delicate situation, but he wouldn’t fail this time. If he was given  _ any _ reason to suspect this…  _ Shadow _ was an enemy, he wouldn’t hesitate to—

Twilight sat down, breaking him from his thoughts as he zeroed in his attention, Four sighing and setting the lantern between the two of them, the walls dancing with their dark likenesses.

“Don’t worry,” Twilight started, resting his elbows on his knees, “I’m no stranger to having… friends hiding in my shadow.” He directed his next question at the wall behind Four. “The light really does burn like hellfire sometimes, doesn’t it.”

Sky could see the figure on the wall throw its hands up in the air and gesticulate emphatically in an exaggerated  _ he gets it! _

Twilight shifted a little. “Could they come out if we killed the lights?”

Four shook his head. “He’s been bound to my shadow. Our adventure wasn’t very kind to him.”

Twilight hummed. “No, they usually aren’t to the shadows.”

Four nodded solemnly.

A silence passed before Four decided to explain a little. “This idiot is my reflection in the Dark World. After antagonizing… me for a while, we… found some common ground. I couldn’t have defeated Vaati without him. Though,” he leaned forward, resting his own elbows on his knees, his shadow drawing itself close around him, almost as if to give him a hug, “he sacrificed himself for us, destroying the mirror”—Twilight seemed to start at that—“that gave both him _and_ Vaati the power they used to survive. Ever since, he’s been unable to take a physical form, trapped inside of my shadow.”

Twilight hummed, shrinking in on himself a little.

“I see.”

“And yourself?” Four offered, “if you’re comfortable, that is, I mean—”

Twilight made a sound in the back of his throat, like a hum, but strained and rough and filled with emotion.

“She, uh,” he cut himself off, voice thick, abruptly moving his head off to the side. “ _ Dammit, I thought I was past this. _ ”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Four soothed, reaching out and placing a hand on Twilight’s own. “Nobody’s expecting you to be over anything. I’m sorry for bringing up old wounds.”

“Don’t be,” Twilight returned, voice still a little watery, “I’m alright.”

Four frowned.

“I’ll be alright.”

Four sighed, rubbing his thumb over the back of Twilight’s— _ gloved _ —hand. 

“I’m here for you if you need to talk about it.” Twilight nodded at Four’s offer. “Please get some rest, though. We’ll need you in peak condition to guide us through this dungeon tomorrow.”

Twilight hummed, moving towards his bedroll. He paused, though, as if considering something. He weighed his words, feeling them out, before haphazardly letting them escape in a rush.

“Hopefully this won’t be relevant, but in case something goes down…” He trailed off, clearly not expecting to have gotten that far, but now forced to finish his sentence, “the very last room of this dungeon is where I lost her.”

Four gasped at that, his shadow reaching out across the wall in empathy but bound to its surface. Twilight said no more, hurrying to his bedroll and laying down. Four lowered his lamp and resigned himself to the silence of the dungeon, casting a long, sad look at his shadow, running his fingers gingerly down the wall, the tips of them brushing fine shadowy points.

It sounded like their conversation was over now.

So it was probably safe to process that information now.

Sky stared at the wall. 

_ What the f*ck? _

He knew Four hadn’t told him everything about his adventure, but he never could have guessed that there was a  _ fifth one _ .

Red, Green, Blue, Vio…

_ Shadow? _

_ It wasn’t like Four used to be Five, was it? _

And, as that delightful thought resurfaced, so did Sky’s desire to throw himself into the quicksand and sink into its depths. Everyone was asleep.  _ They _ wouldn’t know. 

He let his head fall forward, silently smacking his forehead onto the stone stair in front of him.

Just end him now.

But no, Four had said that Shadow had been trapped in his noncorporeal form since his adventure, right? That shouldn’t have any connection to this, should it?

So the existence of this… Shadow seemed to be plausible given his existing information on Four and, if he were truly bound to Four’s shadow, wouldn’t have been able to speak at the end of Time’s cycle or appear in the air at the end of Hyrule’s.

He removed his hand from his sword, wiping the thick layer of sweat off onto his tunic, leaving a smear of dark on its already dirt-stained surface.

Twilight, though.

He’d had a companion during his adventure—right? Sky could have sworn he remembered Twilight mentioning it once, but he’d never known the nature of that companion.

_ She… _ the way he hesitated on  _ friend. _

It was the way Sky used to talk about his Zelda.

_ I lost her _ .

Sky clenched his jaw, digging his fingernails into his palms again but this time he could barely feel it. He pressed deeper, deeper, but accomplished nothing, wanting to tear his own  _ skin _ off, but it was all trapped beneath his f*cking layers upon  _ layers _ of clothing and armor. He forced himself to be content with running his fingernails over his sleeves for now, trying to calm his breathing.

_ There was so much. Every hero had so many secret pains hidden beneath their smiles and their jokes. Twilight, Four, Legend… even those who bore their scars openly, like Wild and Time… _

_ They should all be HYLIA-DAMNED CHILDREN! KIDS! AT HOME! WITH THEIR FAMILIES! NOT THIS! NONE OF THEM DESERVED THIS! NONE OF THEM! BUT SKY JUST HAD TO RUIN EVERYTHING! F*CKING SKY! ALL BECAUSE OF HIM AND _

_ HIS _

_ STUPID _

_ MISTAKE. _

There was the sound of Four rising to his feet and Sky sharpened his focus once more, tearing his attention to the LITERAL CHILD standing before him.

Four stepped forward, carefully, his hand shielding the light from his lantern as he entered the larger of the two alcoves, presumably to resume his conversation with Shadow from before Twilight had woken up.

Sky bided his time, knowing Four was as well, waiting for Twilight to fall asleep. Once Four evidently felt confident that he was the only one awake, his hushed whispers returned, though Sky could no longer make them out through the added distance. He crept forward, listening as intently as he could. As he grew closer, he could make out the flickering form of Shadow on the wall, dancing in time with the candle flame of the lamp. It looked as though he was trying to speak to Four using sign language, but the light source was too unsteady and Four couldn’t seem to read it reliably.

It was then that Sky made his presence known.

“Need some help over there?”

Four spun around in shock, shoulders raised before he sighed. 

“You people have  _ got _ to stop doing that.”

“It sounds like Shadow over here likes the attention,” Sky returned, but it came out flat.

Four sighed. “You heard everything, didn’t you.”

“Mhm,” was his only reply. “You need a more stable light source, right?”

Four nodded reluctantly.

Sky drew the Master Sword, then, raising the tip aloft and letting the ethereal blue glow accumulate on the blade like dew. He sat, the weapon still pointed upwards, but the steady blue shine left a crisp, unwavering outline of Four on the wall, one that turned about a bit as if examining itself and then held out a hand in a thumbs-up.

“Wow. Thanks, Sky.”

Sky frowned, though, resheathing the blade. A faint glow spilled out around the hilt, but the room was plunged into semidarkness, Four’s candle a flickering light.

“If we don’t want a repeat of Twilight,” Sky started, drawing out his words in an attempt to lead Four along on his line of thinking, “we should probably go somewhere a little more…  _ private. _ ”

Four squinted.

“What do you have in mind?”

Sky stepped quietly out of the alcove, gesturing to the door ahead.

Four shot him down immediately.

“Twi said specifically  _ not _ to go in there. He said it was  _ full of enemies _ .” 

“So? He also said the bulbin camp would be  _ full of enemies _ . We haven’t seen combat for  _ weeks.  _ One more room isn’t going to make a difference.”

Four frowned.

“Unless, of course,” Sky leaned forward, drawling as he spoke, “you want everyone to wake up and find out about your little secret?”

Four pouted, staring off to the side.

“Fine.”

Sky grinned.

Dungeon walls were always soundproof. This he knew well.

Carefully, they slid the heavy stone door open, lowering it as silently as they could, stepping into the nearly entirely pitch black room. Sand shore down the walls and churned along the ground, a single dilapidated path weaving through it all, the only light source a pair of torches at the other end of the room.

“ _ There _ we go,” Sky stretched, raising his voice, “and it’s darker, so we’ll be able to see Shadow better, too.”

Four caved, sitting down by the wall and letting Sky draw his sword, Shadow leaping to life in front of them.

“So, uh…” The smithy squirmed a bit, clearly unsure of how much to say with Sky sitting directly behind him.

Shadow began to sign, though Sky regrettably wasn’t actually able to understand any of it.

“He knows the basic storyline, though I’ve been  _ trying  _ to keep your existence a secret,” Four answered.

Shadow signed back, looking somewhat exasperated.

“You weren’t there when they were talking about Darks! Seriously, I don’t doubt they’d kill you on sight, even though you’re a Shadow and I  _ know _ that’s different. It was lucky that the first one to meet you was Twilight. He’s never faced a Dark before and is actually familiar with people in his shadow. Do you have any idea how  _ lucky _ we just were?”

Shadow huffed, but gestured in a way that Sky had a feeling was referring to himself.

Four turned back to look at Sky, a frown on his face.

“What was  _ your _ initial reaction to seeing him?”

Sky raised an eyebrow. There was no harm in the truth here.

“Oh I was totally about to kill him. I thought he was one of those Darks we were talking about.”

Shadow shrunk away a bit at that and Sky only shrugged.

Four turned back to the wall. “See, this is what I mean!”

_ Hold on…  _

“What did you mean when you said Shadow wasn’t there when we were talking about Darks?”

Four looked at Sky for a moment before turning back to the wall.

“When we Split, he always stays in Vio’s shadow. They’re the closest to each other.”

Sky rushed to his feet, the abrupt movement of the sword sending Shadow stretching across the length of the room, but Sky was only focused on Four.

“ _ Does he remember?! _ ”

Sky’s vision shot to the wall and he thrust the sword to the side, launching Shadow back in front of them.

“ _ Do you remember what happened there. _ ”

It was an order.

Shadow signed. Sky turned to Four.

“Here.” Four cleared his throat. “He’s correcting you. What happened  _ here. _ ”

Sky’s eyes narrowed.

“So you do remember.”

A small nod.

“Everything. You have to tell me everything.  _ Please. _ ”

A quick head shake.

Sky felt rage well up inside him,  _ furious, bursting, _ and he swiped his sword in a broad arc, sending Shadow spinning around the room again.

“No,  _ you don’t understand, _ ” Sky stepped forward, his voice growing in volume with every syllable. He stabbed his index finger into the wall, raising his sword arm behind Four which sent Shadow shrinking towards the floor. Sky loomed over him, staring straight into where he figured his eyes would be. 

“ _ You don’t understand what I’ve done to get this far. You are going to tell me EVERYTHING! _ ”

Sky was panting.

Shadow squirmed, looking to Four for help.

Sky felt Four’s eyes on the side of his head, but he was boring his stare directly into Shadow.

“Sky, is this about… is that…  _ thing _ still going? I thought you said it was nothing and you weren’t even thinking about it any…”

Four turned to face Sky fully, trying to step into his line of sight.

“You  _ liar _ .”

Sky didn’t answer, didn’t even look at him, only kept staring at Shadow, the missing puzzle piece in all of this.

But Four only grew more and more upset, raising his voice as well.

“So you  _ were _ still following it! Sky, the first time you mentioned it to me, you were worried that Warriors, Wind, and Wild were going to try and  _ kill themselves! I think I need to f*cking know about this! _ ”

Sky didn’t acknowledge Four’s words. 

“Talk,” he ordered Shadow.

“Not until you do,” countered Four, stepping between Sky and the wall. “It’s been days,  _ almost two weeks.  _ What’s  _ happening now _ ?”

Sky moved the Master Sword to the side, bringing Shadow directly in front of himself.

“Four, this is between me and him right now.”

“No, actually, it isn’t.” Sky looked to Four for the first time since the argument started. “You  _ need _ me to translate. You have to tell me everything or even if Shadow  _ does _ decide to help you, you won’t be able to understand any of it.”

Sky snapped his vision to the wall and watched Shadow throw his hands in the air, clearly unhappy with being stripped of his autonomy.

He turned back to Four, the teen’s steely eyes boring into his own. Teen, huh? He was rather small, too. Plus, it was the middle of the night. Sky glanced down. Four’s item pouch was notably absent from his person.

“Sky,” Four bit out, unyielding. “Wars and Legend this morning. Was that part of the—”

Sky straightened, sucking in a breath. He didn’t owe Four anything. Four had no power over him. 

This was Sky’s fight. Four was irrelevant. This was between Sky and that Dark.

And right now,  _ Four was in his way. _

So Sky shifted the Master Sword to his left hand and shot his right forward, reaching out and crushing his fingers around Four’s neck, shoving the teen backwards against the wall. Four’s shadow blossomed outwards, furious yet powerless, dark daggers hanging ominously on the walls surrounding Sky. Empty threats. A thick black line extended from Sky’s shadow to Four’s, and the latter squirmed.

Four didn’t fight back at first, too stunned by Sky’s sudden act of violence that he could do nothing more but stare forward in shock, but shock wouldn’t get Sky anywhere. He needed  _ fear _ .

He squeezed tighter, pressing his palm again Four’s windpipe, feeling its  _ ridges _ through his glove. 

The teen coughed and choked, sputtering and wheezing, his face bright red, finally breaking out of his stupor, but by then he’d lost enough oxygen that he could only weakly scrabble at Sky’s arm, his feet barely touching the ground, unable to break away with the wall at his back cutting off his options.

In Sky’s periphery, Shadow panicked and pleaded, on his knees, hands clasped, a clear sign that he’d comply if Sky would let Four go, the duplicate of Sky’s arm fastened securely around Shadow’s neck, though Sky doubted he could feel it.

He turned to face the silhouette and nodded, waiting for its nod in return.

He turned back to Four, looking for a similar surrender, but his eyes only met steel.

Sky let out a low growl, scanning the room and spotting the quicksand to his right. He thrust Four to the side, still pressing him against the wall, and lowered him ever so slightly, the churning sand licking hungrily at his boots.

Four scrambled still against Sky’s grip, the only sound his strained wheezing and the scraping of hands on leather, Shadow’s franting signing on the wall barely visible to Four’s steadily unfocusing eyes. No, the loudest sound was the  _ roaring _ , the roaring of the sand cascading down the walls, the roaring in his head, the burning, screaming,  _ need _ for  _ answers _ . And the  _ stench _ , the stench of decay choked Sky like Sky choked Four, filling his throat and his sinuses and his head with the thickness of death.

Four’s breaths grew frantic, panicked, and at that point, from the lack of oxygen, his arms lost their strength and fell to either side, his head lolling forward as Shadow raged his silent screams on the wall above him. 

Four was limp.

He hadn’t spoken a word.

Sky frowned, pulling him from the wall and dropping him in front of him, the teen collapsing to the floor. The sudden rush of oxygen to Four’s system as he gasped involuntarily shocked him back into himself and his hands drifted slowly to his neck and he panted, trying to regain his breath.

Sky stood over Four, taking full advantage of his height, and held the Master Sword out, the eerie blue glow sending sharp shadows streaking out behind him.

He stared down at Four’s crumpled, wheezing figure and made his final ultimatum.

“I don’t have  _ time _ to explain myself to you. I need information and I need it now. Shadow is going to tell me everything and  _ you _ are going to translate. Have I made myself clear?”

Four’s voice was hoarse.

“Like hell.”

Sky’s face hardened and his grip on his sword tightened.

He loomed forward over Four.

“Would you rather I tell everyone  _ everything? _ ”

Four scowled at Sky.

“How do you think they’d react to the news that Vio’s still alive and you didn’t tell them?”

Four’s eyes flung wide.

“You remember how badly they wanted to know who he was, how they  _ cornered _ you.” Sky lowered his voice. “ _ I could make it so much worse. _ ”

Four closed his eyes, one hand still resting on his throat.

He seemingly came to a decision, opening them and turning to look at Shadow, who signed frantically.

Four pulled himself to his feet, swaying and shaking from lack of oxygen.

And then he drew his sword.

“You  _ bastard _ ,” he growled, the blade shaking in his grip.

Sky’s eyes narrowed as he looked down his nose at the mere child that stood before him.

There was no way he’d actually be able to use the Master Sword against Four without burning his own hands—unless?

Sky threaded his fingers through one corner of the sailcloth, winding it around the handle of the Master Sword. 

Four opened his mouth to unleash a battle cry, but could dislodge no sound from his throat. He dove forward anyway, deftly feinting and springing to the side, firing a jab of his blade at Sky’s thigh.

It was obvious that Four didn’t want to do any real harm, just enough to deter Sky. He didn’t even want to leave him defenseless in case there were enemies lurking in the shadowy pits of sand.

Sky had no such reservations.

He spotted the feint and batted Four’s sword away, the blue halo of lightning that had been stored in his blade finally springing forth and crashing into the far wall, shockwaves of plasma filtering out from the impact. He used the distraction and the sudden lack of lighting to catch Four off-guard, sweeping his legs out from beneath him with a swift, well-timed kick. Four landed flat on his back, coughing brutally as the breath ripped itself from his system, his blade clattering to the ground while the room faded into the deep amber of the distant torchlights.

Tangling his left hand fingers in the other free corner of his sailcloth, Sky scooped up the Four Sword, determined to prevent Four from Splitting, and pointed its blade at Four’s throat. He hadn’t even broken a sweat, but Four’s chest rose and fell far too quickly and weakly.

Sky put his foot on it.

“ _ Please,  _ Four. I didn’t want to resort to this. Hylia knows I don’t enjoy it.”

But  _ didn’t  _ he, though? Just a little bit? Finally being in control for once?

Four didn’t respond, only continuing to pant.

Satisfied that he was entirely disarmed, Sky dropped the Four Sword and resheathed the Master Sword, signaling the end of the fight. 

Four groaned weakly.

“You won’t take no for an answer, will you.”

“I have let far too many people get away with not telling me what I need to know,” Sky growled. “And I’d rather die than let you do the same.”

“I don’t understand,” Four croaked.

Sky cocked his head.

“What could have possibly pushed you so far so quickly?”

“You’re right,” came Sky’s response. “You  _ don’t _ understand.”

Four’s chest spasmed again and Sky pulled back his foot to let him breathe.

“Just translate Shadow’s  _ f*cking _ sign language so I can tell what the  _ hell _ he did to Vio, and then we can all go home happy.” His voice raised, hysteric. “I don’t  _ understand  _ why you’re all so reluctant to  _ TALK! _ ”

He started to pace, clenching and unclenching his fists. “It’s like you value some vague idea of secrecy over the  _ lives  _ of your  _ supposed family _ and it makes me  _ sick to my f*cking stomach! _ ” He swiped his fists in a wide arc. “If even  _ ONE  _ person had spoken up and EXPLAINED what was happening to them this  _ entire f*cking time _ , then we wouldn’t be  _ in _ this mess right now!” he gestured to the room as if that somehow could convey the maelstrom of agonies trapped inside his head. “And I  _ KNOW _ they can tell people because HYRULE told F*CKING WARRIORS but he WOULDN’T TELL  _ ME! _ ”

He spun around, his arms gesticulating wildly. 

“AND NOW THEIR MEMORIES HAVE BEEN  _ F*CKING WIPED _ AND IT’S ALL GONE TO WASTE! I HOPE HYRULE’S  _ F*CKING _ HAPPY WITH HIS  _ PRECIOUS LITTLE SECRET ALL SAFE AND SOUND. _ ”

He rounded back on Four.

“And now  _ you, _ ” that last word dripped with every ounce of  _ hate  _ that had been roiling and festering within him for weeks now, “you have the  _ one thing  _ that could make it all finally make  _ sense. _ ”

He stood over Four’s prone form, fists balled and both their chests heaving.

“And you want to keep it from me on  _ principle. _ ”

He spat  _ principle  _ like it was the vilest of curses, his hands shaking.

“Yes,” Four wheezed, and Sky’s rage tripled. “ _ Look _ at yourself.”

Four rose to his feet, stumbling, the Four Sword still out of reach.

“You just  _ attacked _ me,” he stated calmly, trying to keep his voice even. “What would your  _ Zelda _ think if she saw that?”

Z… Zelda?

She wasn’t afraid to stand up to anyone, levelling her index finger at them just like Sky had to Four.

But she stood  _ up _ for Sky, defending him against Groose when he was being a bully.

Had Zelda been here, she would have defended Four.

And had she realized the one attacking him was Sky?

He slumped to his knees.

She’d probably cry.

Or maybe that was when they were younger. Now she’d probably shout at him. And  _ then _ cry.

Once this was all over, he’d planned to propose to her.

They were going to found Hyrule together.

_ This place was gorgeous, stunning, a masterpiece, yet it was still filled with the stench of blood, how much blood—was this blood that had been shed at the hands of the royal family, his family? He was going to start this all, right? He was going to cause the creation of this, this unholy death pit that had the crest of his people, his kingdom plastered over every inch of it, all of it searing with gold. _

Somehow, the fact that all of that was birthed from his hands, it wasn’t so hard to believe anymore.

Sky hadn’t realized how much his hands were shaking until his vision went blurry and he tried to wipe his eyes, unable to move his fingers with any degree of precision.

“You’re falling apart, Sky.”

His voice was weak and weepy, a wet hum accompanying his nod.

“I don’t know what’s been going on, but it’s destroying you. Hell, it might have already succeeded.”

Sky only sobbed into his hands.

“This is why you should f*cking  _ talk to others, _ ” Four growled. “Didn’t we keep telling you this? Over and over? That you should go to others, let them be there for you, let them help you.  _ Talk to us, _ isn’t that all we ever said?”

Four pulled himself upright, looking down on Sky. 

“You didn’t take our advice. And now look at what you’ve done to yourself.”

Sky lifted his head and leveled a glare at Four, his gaze all fire.

“ _ I didn’t have a CHOICE! _ ”

“ _ You ALWAYS have a choice! _ ”

“ _ YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND! _ ”

“Then  _ make  _ me!  _ Make me understand! _ ”

“I  _ can’t! _ ”

“That’s all you ever say! Are you trying to get yourself  _ killed?!  _ Because  _ that _ ’s where this is headed, you hear?  _ That’s _ where you’re heading right now! Your own self-destruction!”

“THEN SO BE IT!” Sky bellowed, throwing up his hands. “Because at least  _ you’ll _ be  _ alive _ !”

Four’s face filled with so much confusion and pity that it nearly made Sky sick.

He stepped forward, his face broken in kindness. “Is there any way out for you? Is there any end in sight?”

Sky turned to face the wall, Shadow’s helpless form flitting across its surface, his edges fuzzy and wavering in the unsteady light.

“At the end of this dungeon is the entity behind all of this. When we reach it, I will destroy it.” Sky exhaled. “And I’ll finally be free.”

He turned back to face Four.

“So, I need to know as much about our enemy as possible. If Shadow over here has memories that Vio doesn’t, then I need to know  _ everything. _ ”

And at that,  _ finally _ , Four relented.

“Okay. I’ll translate Shadow’s sign language for you.”

And Sky  _ melted,  _ collapsing forward with relief.

“Just… enough of this,” came Four’s quiet voice. “Enough of this madness.”

“I never wanted this,” was Sky’s only response.

Four nodded, turning to Shadow.

“Tell him everything you can.”

Shadow slumped, running a wavering hand through his flickering hair and resting his forearms on his knees. 

Sky drew his sword, raising it skyward once more and watching Shadow’s blue-ringed form solidify on the wall.

“First of all,” Four narrated quietly, watching Shadow’s sign, “I am  _ not okay _ with any of this right now.”

“I haven’t been okay with anything for a very. Long. Time.” Sky bit back. “Now start talking.”

Shadow visibly swallowed and began his tale.

* * *

He’d been in Vio’s shadow, the two had been chatting in the gibbous moonlight, when a dark portal, much like the ones the heroes had used to cross between worlds, opened up beneath them, sucking the pair into pitch blackness. 

Vio had fallen, smacking into cold, hard stone and the crunch of old, dried bones. The room had been completely dark, but Shadow had been able to make out the distinct silhouettes of bars and the inky black outline of a rather Link-like figure.

“Welcome to my kingdom of darkness,” came the strong, darkly intelligent tones of that _horrifically familiar yet still so strange_ voice.

Vio had remained silent, listening carefully and not willing to give anything away.

“I know  _ exactly _ who you are, so let’s not waste my time,” came a smooth imitation of Legend’s tone when he challenged Warriors. “You’re the little weasel who thought he could dabble in darkness and escape without paying the price.”

The voice waited for a moment.

“So, allow me to introduce myself. I’m the one who’s come to collect what you owe _.” _

At that point, Vio had finally spoken.

“What is it that you want?”

“Two things,” the voice answered lightly, a slight lilt to his cadence not unlike Wind’s, “I’ll keep it simple. You will bring me the Master Sword.”

“And the second?”

“We’ll get there in due time.”

Vio squinted. 

“That’s it? You just want me to join forces with you?”

“Precisely,” it had answered, moving to another part of the room outside the cell.

Vio weighed his next words carefully.

“And if I were to be so foolish as to refuse your magnanimous offer?”

“Then you’d find out what the second thing that you’re going to give me is.”

Vio paused for a moment.

“Might I take some time to deliberate on my options?”

“Of course.”

Not a second had passed before the voice spoke again.

“Time’s up. You only have one option: obey. I  _ did _ say I’d keep it simple, after all.”

As Vio replied, though, a smile crept into his voice. It was a smile that Shadow usually loved, but right then, he’d cursed Vio to the moon and back.

“Well, suppose I’m a curious little fellow that loves to meddle in knowledge that I really rather shouldn’t.”

“Then you will be a  _ dead _ curious little fellow that can no longer meddle in knowledge that you really rather shouldn’t.”

“Well, I’m just  _ dying _ to know what that second request you had for me was.”

There was a little lip smack, the kind that Time made when he had to act disappointed, but was secretly enjoying the group’s mischief.

“If you insist.”

The voice took great pleasure in shaping every syllable of that sentence, forming the words that had haunted Vio—and Shadow—ever since.

There was no more sound after that, the silhouette vanishing from Shadow’s vision. But Vio couldn’t see in the dark so he had no way of knowing if it was there or not, though perhaps there was some Hylian sense that could pick up on the evil that such a creature no doubt radiated. The darkness also meant, though, that Shadow wouldn’t be able to communicate with Vio at all.

He doubted Vio even knew he was there, though if he did, there was a good chance he was making a point not to acknowledge him so, should that figure still be watching, Shadow could remain undetected.

After a moment of silence, Vio had placed one hand over his nose and mouth and begun to feel around, scoping out the perimeter of his cell with his hands and kicking all of the miscellaneous bones into a corner. There was a  _ lot _ of sand and Vio did his best to sweep that into the corner as well. He measured out the walls with his fingertips, searching for seams between the stones that made up the walls and floor and finding none. It was airtight. He started mumbling under his breath, and Shadow had a sickening feeling that Vio knew he was there and was trying to communicate as much as he could before… 

Vio had broken Shadow from that train of thought with his observations. The stones were cold despite the presence of loose, fine sand, which implied a beach or desert, meaning it  _ should _ be warm. Chances were, he was  _ very _ far underground and his cell was drilled straight into the bedrock. Most likely, the sand wasn’t from a beach—there weren’t any in Twilight’s Hyrule—though, he supposed, he had no real guarantee that they were even  _ in _ Twilight’s Hyrule anymore. The group had been heading for Arbiter’s Grounds when Vio was captured, though, and Vio  _ knew _ that that was in the desert. 

Besides, if that creature had wanted him to take the Master Sword from Sky, it only made sense to keep him imprisoned somewhere that Sky was headed to anyway. Assuming he managed to win Vio over, Sky would do the rest of his work for him.

So, chances were, he was trapped somewhere deep beneath the Gerudo Desert, possibly Arbiter’s Grounds. That was a start.

He moved to the bars. They were no new addition, but whoever had built this place originally hadn’t held back on durability. They were solidly drilled through layers of thick stone, and only superficially corroded. There was no way Vio, small as he was, would be able to fit between the bars—and Shadow could tell he had been feeling for an overturned pot earlier, anything that could house a Minish Portal—and aside from that, hell, there wasn’t even any manner of cell door that either of them could find. Was the only way in or out via portal?

After pacing the length of his cell for a while, Vio returned to the wall, resting his back against it and sinking into a sitting position.

That creature. Did he have enough information to even hypothesize over its nature?

The room was pitch black—clearly it valued its anonymity. It hadn’t given him any manner of name, either—though the darkness could have been a psychological tactic to keep Vio off-balance.

Despite all the time they’d spent traveling together, the heroes had come to know shockingly little about their ultimate enemy.

Except, there was that little nugget that Sky had left him with shortly before he was kidnapped. 

_ “I think something’s going on. Warriors was acting… off. And I think he almost tried to… he was being really reckless in battle, but the look on his face was… peaceful. When I saved him, he seemed… angry. But then a few days later he was fine and thanked me for helping him. But then Wind was acting differently. I don’t know if it transferred or what, because it wasn’t the same way Warriors had been acting, not exactly, but he almost got himself killed in that one battle and he had this bandage on his hand that he refused to tell me about. I didn’t notice it until after I leant him the Master Sword, and you know how she’ll burn your hand if you try to hurt one of us. Now that I think about it, Warriors asked for the Master Sword, too, before. And Wind insisted that we remember how amazing we were. He insisted. It felt… urgent. And the next morning when I woke up for watch, he was gone and the Wind Waker was with my stuff. And I ran after him but he was in the woods. Fine, but I don’t know if he knew how he got there. And now Wild’s been awfully quiet and… I’m worried about him. Wind tried to give me his Wind Waker, and now Wild’s been teaching Legend how to use his Sheikah Slate and me how to cook and yesterday he insisted that I remember that I’m a good person. He had that same urgency that Wind did. I don’t know if I’m going nuts, but—” _

And then, of course: “ _ It’s always on my watch. _ ”

That night, once he’d been listening for it, Wild’s speech certainly sounded like a sort of goodbye, the same kind that Sky had mentioned hearing from Warriors and Wind. It all seemed to line up. People were acting off, trying to get the Master Sword, and then…

Saying goodbye.

Hold on.

_ Two things. _

_ You will bring me the Master Sword. _

_ You will be a dead curious little fellow. _

If people were asking for the Master Sword from Sky and then endangering their own lives…

It was at that point that the thought struck him.

_ He’d _ been kidnapped during Sky’s watch.

Was  _ he _ next?

Had this happened to the others? Had that creature given them the same ultimatum? But that couldn’t be right. Sky still had the sword. Those that borrowed it had always handed it right back. But Wind’s hand had been bandaged. Had he gotten into a fight over it? And why were the others seemingly suicidal instead of being threatened by an outside force? There was too much that didn’t line up. But there was still so much that did. That creature had seemed rather invested in keeping to a tight schedule—Vio would have to exploit that—but that would make sense if it was trying to convert Vio to its side before the end of the three days.

So, then, if Vio could hang on for three days, he should be able to make it out alright. Sky had mentioned that everything seemed to reset and everyone would go back to normal. So, in order for “Four” to go back to normal, Vio would need to return to the others.

He hoped they wouldn’t worry too much—they knew he could take care of himself, though Red did tend to fret. Usually he found it somewhat endearing, if not a little irritating. He sighed. Green would take care of them, hopefully, but he always struggled when he felt he'd failed them as their supposed “leader.” He sighed again, and Shadow could tell he was trying to convince himself that the others weren’t in any danger. Worry was something that could be exploited in a situation like this. It seemed Vio had been singled out for his past…  _ allegiances _ —which this creature somehow knew about—so everyone else was probably safe, then.

Hopefully.

Vio collected himself. He only had to last three days.

He stared into the cold darkness of the cell.

He had no way of telling when three days had passed, did he.

Some period of time later, neither of them could say for sure, that  _ thing _ reappeared in the room. Shadow could tell Vio noticed, tensing ever so slightly.

There was a snapping of fingers and a small flame sprung to life, revealing a glittering row of daggers lining the walls outside the cell. 

The floor was stained in blood.

Vio must have smelled it earlier, which was why he’d covered his face. 

Vio rose to his feet, squaring his shoulders and levelling a challenging stare at the dark outline that strangled the small flame in its grip.

Shadow, as vague as his form was in that lighting, mimicked Vio’s posture as best he could. Neither of them knew if that creature was aware it had gotten more than it bargained for, and it didn’t take much to imagine what it might do to them if it found out.

So Shadow kept very carefully to Vio’s form, expanding his shape ever so slightly with Vio’s controlled breaths. Shadow suppressed a shiver at the thought of what he’d have to imitate as time wore on.

In the low light, the only details of the darkness’ figure Shadow could make out were the two red eyes that shimmered greedily against its nonexistent skin.

“The second thing you are going to give me is your  _ courage. _ ”

* * *

Shadow had stopped signing, then, Four’s voice wavering with that last line. Sky drank up the opportunity to process what he’d been told. 

_ Even while captured, he was still trying to solve Sky’s mystery. _ But no, he was still too far off the mark. He didn’t know what Sky knew. Not even Vio could solve this now. It was all up to Sky.

One thing that Shadow had said, though, had turned Sky’s very bones to ice. 

_ You will bring me the Master Sword. _

That  _ bastard _ was going to try and take it away from him.

He wouldn’t let it.

He  _ wouldn’t _ .

He’d rather die.

He’d rather  _ kill _ .

Shadow’s sign language began to flicker across the wall again and Four cleared his throat.

“I’m not going to go into the details of it,” Four narrated, watching the hasty signing, “but that…  _ abomination _ did unspeakable things, I—”

“I’ve been calling it the Dark,” Sky interrupted, “and you’ve got to be a little more specific than “unspeakable.” Did it use the knives?”

Shadow erupted into a flurry of movement.

“ _ Yes it used the f*cking knives!  _ What do you  _ want _ from me? Do you want to know how Vio bled? How he  _ screamed _ ?”

There was a pause, and Four gasped as he spoke.

“ _ I can still hear his screams. _ ”

Four reached forward, touching the wall, Shadow’s fingers meeting his own.

“But that f*cking…  _ Dark _ .” Shadow filled with more visible rage than Sky had thought a silhouette could express. “You better send that b*tch to f*cking hell.”

Sky nodded, showing his teeth.

“With pleasure.”

Shadow didn’t resume signing, but Four spoke anyway, asking a question of his own. “If Vio was… tortured for a week, then how come he was physically able to hold us all up over that chasm? And how did he escape if that Dark had so much control over you?”

Shadow bristled, the motions as he signed stiff and furious. 

“It  _ let _ us.”

Four gasped, rushing his narration to keep up with Shadow’s frantic sign.

“It  _ let  _ us escape. Every time, before it left, it forced a potion down Vio’s throat.” Shadow paused. “He wouldn’t have survived without them.”

Shadow stopped signing, then, lowering his hands that quivered even in the steadfast light of the Master Sword. Four leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Shadow’s dark palm.

“I’m here now. I’m safe.”

Shadow nodded, curling in close, losing his shape and becoming a black halo around Four, who pressed himself into the wall as if Shadow could somehow feel his warmth.

Before long, though, Shadow sprang back into definition, seemingly coming to a decision. His sign was a flurry of movement on the dungeon wall and Four hastily wiped his eyes to continue translating.

“Vio’s sacrifice will  _ not _ be in vain. He learned that that  _ bastard _ is a creature unlike myself, Vaati, or even Ganon”—Sky tensed at the name—“Instead of drawing on its own hatred and malice, it draws on  _ yours. _ ”

Sky’s eyes flung wide, his mind rushing to catch up with his ears.

“All of you heroes. You’re some of the most powerful people the world has ever seen. And all of you together? If the hate of a Gerudo king could birth  _ Ganon _ , then what power could reside in the hate of those who were able to defeat  _ him? _ ”

Sky’s awareness shook—he might have hit the floor, he wasn’t sure—but something in his head  _ snapped,  _ tearing him into blackness _. _

Hate.

_ His _ hate.

He’d been… a pawn.

A

f*cking

_ Pawn. _

He’d played straight into its F*CKING BASTARD HANDS.

EVERY SECOND OF EVERY DAY THAT HE SPENT TRYING TO WARD IT OFF ONLY BECKONED IT CLOSER.

Hate.

_ Hate. _

_ HATE WAS ALL HE F*CKING FELT ANYMORE! _

Hate for that  _ b*tch _ . Hate for his life. Hate for  _ himself.  _

And he’d  _ known. _

He’d  _ known _ there was an enemy, a darkness, lurking in the shadows this whole time, watching, waiting, calculating. Did he somehow think he was  _ clever _ ? Was he f*cking  _ senile _ ? 

Sky had hated himself, sure, but every passing day he spent trying to unravel that web of mystery only got him even more tangled up in his own agony. Forcing him to unravel a sickening, impossible riddle, isolating him from everyone around him… 

Finding answers wasn’t Sky somehow conquering this great evil, fighting tooth and nail against its secrets, the victorious hero, no, every mystery he unraveled only tangled him further in its trap.

He was a f*cking  _ imbecile _ .

He thought he was somehow outside of all of this, untouched, protected by the Master Sword that the Dark wanted so badly, watching as everyone was slowly engulfed by the coming storm, desperately trying to quell its torrents before it reached him.

But no, no, no,  _ no,  _ he was at the center of it, all along. He’d ushered in the clouds himself. If the Dark couldn’t touch him, it would grate away at his sanity, and everyone he loved was the file.

No, that wasn’t right,  _ he _ was the tool. He’d been doing  _ exactly  _ what the Dark wanted all along.

He was  _ helping. _

_ He was f*cking HELPING IT. _

_ ALL ALONG, HIS WORTHLESS ASS THOUGHT IT WAS  _

_ SO _

_ F*CKING _

_ CLEVER. _

Sky was snapped back to his senses by a stinging on his cheek. He blinked, shaking his head as if that would do  _ f*cking anything _ , and tried to focus his eyes on Four’s terrified expression, his hand wavering next to Sky’s face from where it must have just  _ slapped _ him.

“Hey, you know what would be a great idea? Let’s practice some good communication skills, ready?”

He paused, but it was clear he wasn’t expecting an answer.

“What the  _ f*ck _ was that?! You just started writhing on the ground!”

Four knelt down, testing placing his hand on Sky’s shoulder.

Sky smacked it away, rising to his feet, the Master Sword still firmly clenched in his hand and Four eyed it warily.

“I’ve only made it worse.”

Four’s brow furrowed, and he leaned in closer. “What do you mean?”

Sky ran his hands through his hair, eyes wild. “I’ve been playing into its hands, letting it fill me up with hatred. I thought I was somehow escaping its control, but I was only succumbing to it.”

“Okay,” Four started carefully, “but now that you’ve realized this, you can fight that control, right? If you’ve figured out what it’s doing to you.”

Sky shook his head, “no, no no no no no,” he only shook it faster as he spoke, starting to pace, “I’m too far gone now. There’s no pulling me out of this. Fighting it’s only going to make it worse.”

“Are you sure?” Four asked, his voice carefully even. “I feel like fighting whatever’s happening to you would be a good thing.”

Four took a steadying breath.

“Sky, you’re really scary right now.”

Sky paused in his pacing, tossing a glance at Four.

“You’re not yourself, you haven’t been. If it’s the influence of that Dark that’s made you that way, then—”

“No,” Sky broke in, manic, “don’t you  _ see  _ it  _ wasn’t _ any outside influence at all.” He started pacing again. “It was  _ me. _ Me in a vacuum. This is what I become.”

“Then stop being in a vacuum! Let us help you!”

“Ah, but that’s all part of it. That’s where it draws its power over me from. It knows I’d never endanger you. You’re leverage. Hostages.”

Four pursed his lips. “What the hell sort of power does it have where it can keep eight of the strongest heroes in history hostage, but can’t even touch your sword? Are you sure it’s not bluffing?”

“I don’t think Shadow would appreciate calling what that bastard did to Vio a  _ bluff. _ ” Four tensed. “Don’t you think it’s strange that it kidnapped Vio  _ right after _ I told him what I’d learned? The fact that it  _ tortured _ him only makes it worse!” He rounded back towards Four. “If it can cherry pick its choice out of all of us, slap us into a cell, and slice us to ribbons for days on end as some sort of  _ sick amusement _ , then what chance could we  _ possibly  _ have against it?” Sky stared down at his shuddering hands. “I’ve only made it stronger. Every day I  _ exist _ , it only grows in strength. I’m  _ feeding _ it, I’m—”

Four rushed to his feet, snatching Sky by his shoulders and forcing him to still, though he had to reach to do it. “ _ Don’t f*cking dare think what I think you’re thinking. _ ”

Sky frowned.

“I don’t care if I’m a f*cking hypocrite for having tried to pull this sh*t twice already, but  _ think _ about what we  _ put _ you through. Would you wish that on anyone? On  _ us? _ ”

“If it really  _ does _ feed on my self-hatred, Four, then my death would be an  _ asset  _ to you. You were trying to die because you’re an idiot. I would be  _ actively helping the group. _ ”

“ _ No you won’t! _ ” Four tensed up, squeezing Sky’s shoulders. “It feeds on  _ all _ our hate, not just yours. If you died, everyone else would hate  _ themselves _ for being unable to stop  _ you! _ ” Four’s face tried to be kind. “I know you would have felt the same way if you hadn’t been able to save us in time.”

“They’d be glad.” Sky had meant to mutter it under his breath, but Four had caught wind of it, his face welling up with rage.

“NO WE F*CKING WOULDN’T!”

“ _ I tried to kill you not half an hour ago! Tell me you wouldn’t be happier if I were gone right now! _ ”

“ _ NO! _ ” Four cried, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. “This isn’t  _ you.  _ Whatever happened to the  _ loving _ Sky? Who always used to drape his Sailcloth over anyone who fell asleep in the cold, who was willing to lend an ear to anyone who needed it, who gave the best hugs out of anyone. What happened to  _ him _ ?”

“If he ever existed, he’s dead now. The good in me already died, Four.” He laughed darkly. “All that’s left is…  _ this. _ ” He gestured to himself.

“No,” Four countered, firm, “the real Sky is still in there. Maybe he’s quieter, or weaker, or  _ whatever _ , but you haven’t lost your kindness.”

Sky couldn’t help but laugh at that.

Four didn’t even  _ know _ him anymore.

“You offered to give me light so I could talk to Shadow.”

“I wanted information.”

“But you didn’t know he even  _ had _ any. You heard me talking to Twilight, but we gave no indication that Shadow knew anything about what happened to Vio.”

Sky froze.

Why  _ had _ he offered to help Four?

Four’s eyes blazed with determination.

“You’re still in there, Sky.” Four lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Sky and burying himself in Sky’s tunic.

“And I’m not going to let you down.”

Four was hugging him.

Sky had tried to manipulate, blackmail, strangle,  _ straight up murder  _ him.

And now Four was hugging him.

“I don’t understand.”

“No. You don’t.”

And Sky deflated, absently bringing his free hand to the back of Four’s head. 

He’d hated himself.

For so long, he’d hated himself.

But there was a new rage boiling within him.

Hate at what he’d let himself become.

If that  _ bastard _ could draw on hate for power, then  _ so could Sky. _

And he had been stockpiling his for a very. Long. Time.

Four squeezed him, releasing the hug and stepping back, Sky letting his hand fall back to his side.

“We’re going to destroy that son of a b*tch tomorrow,” Sky spat, eyes fiery.

“Hell yeah we are,” grinned Four, his shadow cheering on the nearby wall.

Four raised a hand, toothy grin only widening, and Sky smacked it, a smile sliding across his own features. 

“Now go the f*ck to sleep,” Four ordered, causing Sky to tense. “I’m not stupid. You  _ never _ sleep anymore. That changes now. Wind is next for watch and I’m not afraid to sic him on you.”

Sky opened his mouth to protest, but Four cut him off, jabbing a finger against his chest.

“ _ You _ need to be in tip-top condition for that big fight coming up. So, you need your rest.”

Sky frowned. Four had a point.

“I’ll try.”

Four’s face softened, and he lightly landed a hand on Sky’s arm.

“That’s all I can ask.”

Sky launched his remaining skyward strike at the far wall, resheathing his sword, and the two slid the thick, solid dungeon door shut, slipping back into the room where the others remained fast asleep.

Dungeon rooms really were soundproof.

Sky carefully tiptoed his way back to his sleeping bag, unrolling it and curling up inside it, listening as Four shook Wind awake for his watch. He frowned when Four whispered to make sure Sky got some sleep, but didn’t comment, trying to still himself as much as possible.

Four  _ had _ a point, though he hated to admit it. Sky would need his rest. He closed his eyes and tried to relax his wound-up muscles.

Sleep didn’t take him quite as quickly as it had when Legend had been there, but his body ached for it and his mind was too shattered to protest, so the darkness enveloped him once more.

* * *

When he returned to consciousness, there was someone poking him in the ribs. He moaned, coming to, and the sounds of the others packing up camp filtered into his awareness.

Legend crouched next to him, pouting theatrically.

Sky opened his mouth—he didn’t have a _f*cking_ _clue_ what he was going to say—but it didn’t matter, Legend handing him a bowl of breakfast and turning away to pack up his things. It looked like everyone was mostly done eating, nobody having woken Sky so he could help Wild with the cooking. Most likely Four’s doing.

They packed up camp, the atmosphere ever so slightly less solemn, presumably as they all went noseblind to the thick perfume of death. 

Sky shuddered to think of how many of them were already familiar with it.

Twilight directed them forwards, instructing them to prepare for combat just in case, and Sky tried desperately to avoid eye contact with everyone, hoping none of them noticed that he already knew there wouldn’t be any enemies in the room ahead.

They entered it, the room looking exactly as it had the night before, and Sky suddenly shook with the fear that they might see scuff marks on the floor, scorch marks from his skyward strikes on the walls, something, anything that might incriminate Sky and how he’d  _ f*cking attacked _ Four.

Fortunately, nobody seemed to notice anything and the group continued forward, Twilight stopping to inspect a few sand pits.

“No enemies in this room, then,” he announced, moving towards the door.

He paused for a moment, steeling himself, and then shoved it open, the thick stone sliding into the ceiling.

Immediately, an eerie bluish glow spilled in under the door, revealing a darkened room, the path ahead lined with uncanny armless statues that stared blankly ahead, backs rigid and legs stiff. At the center of the room was a strange circular design on the floor, concentric rings filled with strange script arcing across the center of the chamber, a few of the statues around it toppled or missing their heads. By the opposite door, a wide, open, imposing exit, stood four torches, each positively  _ encrusted _ with yet more golden Hylian Crests, ethereal blue flames flickering in their cradles.

Twilight instantly sought them out, and when he spied them, he fist-pumped rather emphatically. “ _ Yes,  _ we don’t have to do the whole dungeon again. The torches are still burning.”

“Woo!” shouted Wind, though he was careful to keep his voice low this time. They made their way through the room, Twilight scanning the branching hallways, but otherwise moving swiftly towards the large door opposite the way they’d come.

They passed between two large columns and into another dark tunnel, this one opening into a room, its walls lined with a row of small, torches—orange as opposed to the last room’s blue—and its ceiling a raised cylinder, a cracked column dangling from its center like some strange sort of stalactite. Column and pillars stacked decorative platforms running all up its perimeter, more symbols carved into the wall, but Twilight jogged forward without a second glance, the others rushing after him, scanning the branching hallways they passed.

The floor paneling was torn up in places, revealing a mess of cogs and gears that appeared rusted into place, an imprint in the center of the room in the same shape as Twilight’s spinner. He ignored it all, stepping over the holes in the floor tiles and heading straight for the room ahead, which boasted a large helix-like structure rising around a raised platform that jutted up through another cylindrical room with yet another quicksand floor. A spiral staircase clung to the walls, but the large sections that had broken off and sunk into the quicksand made the entire structure useless.

“Almost there,” Twilight called back, skidding to a stop on a platform that jutted out into the flow of sand. “The dungeon is almost exactly how I left it, so this next part shouldn’t be  _ too _ complicated.” He pointed to a large outcropping of solid floor tile off to the side.

“We’re going to need to sprint across this quicksand to that platform, then you’re all going to wait on those stairs while I spin up to that spot over there” he gestured to the raised platform surrounded by the helix. He frowned. “We just need to figure out how to get all of you up there with me. Obviously some of you can hookshot, but there’s no clawshot targets in this room.”

“Well we managed to come up with a makeshift hookshot target,” Wind pointed out, “so I don’t see why we can’t make a clawshot target, too.”

Sky pursed his lips. “Clawshots can only grab onto metal grates and vines. I don’t think anyone has anything like that.”

Warriors raised one hand to his chin, clearly racking his brain. “And certain enemies, too. I never switched between weapons much when fighting, but my clawshot was invaluable in snatching Aeralfos out of the sky.”

Wild perked up at that.

“Hey, hang on a minute. Twilight, didn’t you use your clawshot on that Aeralfos in that last fight? It was ages ago, I think even before we reached Lake Hylia.”

Twilight cocked an eyebrow. “Probably? That sounds like something I would have done. It’s still not particularly helpful because there aren’t any enemies around, Aeralfos or otherwise.”

“No, no, no, hang on a second,” Wild began frantically flipping through his Sheikah Slate. Twilight knew it usually took him a while to find whatever he was looking for, so he continued talking.

“There’s no way we’re going to find any vines around here, and I don’t trust the rope on the hookshot target to not come undone with a clawshot tearing at it. It’s not out of the question for there to be  _ some _ manner of metal grate in here, but I don’t even know where we’d  _ start _ looking for one _. _ I guess—”

“ _ BEHOLD! _ ” cried Wild, one hand clutching his Sheikah Slate and the other raised proudly aloft, exalting a beautifully ornate shield boasting a decorative golden lattice and a bright red gemstone. 

Twilight gawked.

“Where the  _ hell _ did you  _ get _ that?!”

Wild beamed. “In the battle with those Aeralfos! After it ended, I grabbed one of their shields.”

Twilight ran his hands through his hair, exasperated and clearly confused. “Why would you  _ do _ that?”

“It was pretty!”

Twilight opened his mouth but Legend cut in, frustrated, “why are you complaining? Wild just  _ saved _ your sorry ass!”

“But why does he have a  _ clawshot target? _ ”

“Because he does!”

Somewhere in the back, Time piped up, “come on, pup, how could you  _ not _ remember that? It was our last combat encounter.”

Twilight leveled a glare at his mentor, but knew it was fruitless.

“ _ Fine, _ we’ll use the  _ literal clawshot target. _ ”

Wild pouted. “I have no idea why you’re so upset. I’m being  _ helpful! _ ”

Twilight opened his mouth, gesticulating meaninglessly with his hands, before dropping them with a sigh. 

“So,” he ran a hand down his face, “we dash to the stairs, I spin up to the platform, you all claw-and-hookshot up to where I’ll have the targets, and then I’ll spin the rest of the way up, and we’ll do that again. That will be the end of this room.”

Hyrule piped up, raising his hand to get Twilight’s attention.

“How much more of this will there be? I’m worried about Warriors’ wound.”

Twilight looked up for a moment, thinking.

“He should only need to use his clawshot twice more. We can take a short break after this room, and then he should be in the clear.”

“Okay,” Hyrule nodded. “His wound’s a lot better than yesterday, so as long as he doesn’t strain himself too hard, he probably won’t reopen it.”

Twilight nodded, turning to the quicksand ahead. He tossed the spinner forward onto it, gliding across it and scooping it back up when he reached the other side with a practiced ease. Legend was next, dashing across with his pegasus boots, Four following suit. Hyrule launched himself upwards in a swirl of blue, soaring over the gap and landing neatly by Legend’s side.

Twilight sputtered. “Did you just use  _ magic?! _ ”

Hyrule snapped his vision to Twilight’s, eyes wide. “Is that bad?”

Twilight threw his hands into the air. “The next room is the  _ boss room! _ You kind of need to hang onto that stuff!”

_ The next room was WHAT now? _

Sky’s breathing began to rush, and he stumbled back a bit.

The boss room.

This.

This was it.

This was where it all went down.

Just after this room.

Was he ready?

_ Hell no! _

He could barely keep his thoughts straight, just idly watching everyone figure out how to get to the end of the room.  _ That wasn’t his problem! _

That  _ f*cking b*tch  _ was only one room away.

Sky’s hands fisted, his nails sinking into the leather of his gloves, and he made a concerted effort to steady his breaths. He wasn’t going to have a panic attack. Not now. Not when it really mattered.

In.

Out.

He was as ready as he was ever going to be. That bastard was getting stronger every day. Today was the day.

He was going to put an end to it.

All of it.

For them.

Sky was vaguely aware of Hyrule’s indignant protests. “You didn’t say that! You said after this room there would be a break! I don’t know how long your dungeon is!”

Twilight balled his hands into fists, groaning in frustration. “I said we were skipping most of it and that we were  _ almost there! _ ” He sighed, rolling his eyes and turning back to the other heroes. “Do you all have a way across?”

Wild answered by sprinting across the sands, Sky following suit.

He’d need to keep his head in the game. Getting lost in thought was useful at times, but  _ sh*t, _ he’d need to be f*cking  _ vigilant _ . Showing up a room early to catch them off guard was  _ exactly _ the kind of bullsh*t he’d expect from that bastard.

Now carefully scanning the room, Sky watched as Twilight pointed over to the staircase, dropping one of his clawshots back into Wild’s hands. He then leapt in towards the center of the room, gliding down the shifting slope to a small outcropping at the base of the pillar, the spinner snapping into the grooves that Sky only just then noticed etched into its base and along the inside of the helix. Twilight passed a revolution around the pillar before springing off, the spinner launching towards the spiraling structure, zipping along its surface, climbing up and around, and stumbling off as he reached the platform. 

Twilight leaned over, just then noticing that the spinner tracks rose above the platform on that side, blocking him from where the others were waiting. So, he balanced his iron boots atop the rail, climbing up onto it and strapping in his feet, readying the hookshot target. He nodded, Legend firing his hookshot upwards and finding purchase, Twilight twisting to the side as Legend approached, allowing him to land neatly on the platform behind him. Legend nodded, pulling his hookshot free, and the others repeated the process, Sky carefully scanning every inch of the room from his new vantage point—holy  _ sh*t _ , that was it above him, wasn’t it. Up on the wall behind him hung a massive, gold-lined entryway with a large stone outcropping. The spinner track arced smoothly up to meet it, but that was  _ it. _

Behind that doorway.

Sky ran his fingers over the backs of his gloves, fiddling, scratching, faster,  _ faster _ .

Next room.

That next room.

Right there.

There.

Twilight had just pulled the last person up and he was now gliding up the tracks on his spinner once more, someone probably commenting about how much fun it looked, and Twilight firmly planted himself on the platform, bracing his iron boots against the floor.

He raised his target and the group resumed, one by one working their way up to Twilight.

Sky fired his clawshot, the talons sinking into the shield and pulling him securely upwards, flinging him towards that final room.

He stumbled as he reached the platform, leaning forward and catching himself on his free hand, Four stepping forward as if he was about to steady him and then stopping himself. Sky straightened, shaking himself off, and then moved towards a nearby column, trying to discreetly lean against it. He looked up, then, and saw, stretching before him, a ramp, sloping upwards, lined with pillars inlaid into the wall and, at the very top, a terrifyingly ornate door adorned not with one, but  _ three _ Hylian Crests in searing,  _ searing _ gold.

Twilight pulled the last person up— _ too quickly this was all moving too quickly slow down slow down STOP! _ —and Sky struggled to keep his breathing even— _ sh*t he was getting dizzy now, too _ —but he had to do this.

He had to.

It was up to him.

No hand slipped into his or landed on his shoulder. Both Legend and Four kept their distances, the others blissfully unaware of just how much Sky was shattering inside.

But no, no, no,  _ no, NO, dammit! _

He needed to hold himself together.

He could do this.

“Alright, how’s everyone feeling?” Twilight asked, hopping up and down on his feet a little.

“Ready when you are,” came Time’s steady reply.

“Let’s do this,” was Wild’s determined response.

_ Oh, was everyone going to say something? _

“Just give the signal.” That was Warriors.

“No time like the present.” That was Hyrule and  _ f*ck, _ they were all going to go, that meant  _ Sky _ was going to have to say something. He had to pick a good lie, a convincing—

“Hell yeah!”  _ That was Wind, there were only two people left before Sky he had to THINK OF SOMETHING _ .

“Finally, some combat!” Legend.

_ One left one left one left. _

“Let’s kill a b*tch.”

Four.

And then all eyes were on Sky.

He nodded.

And then they were moving, everyone making eye contact and nodding  _ WEREN’T THEY SUPPOSED TO BE TAKING A BREAK WASN’T THAT IN THE PLAN DIDN’T TWILIGHT SAY THEY WERE GOING TO DO THAT?! HE DISTINCTLY REMEMBERED TWILIGHT SAYING THAT THEY WOULD TAKE A BREAK AND NOW THEY WERE JUST MARCHING STRAIGHT AHEAD— _

Breathe.

The ramp could have been a mountain and Sky wouldn’t have noticed a difference, the others striding up it while Sky struggled to keep up. It leveled out at the top, different, more frantic, archaic symbols scrawled across the walls by the entrance, a plethora of skulls scattered haphazardly across the floor. Twilight knelt by one, turning it over, and gasped quietly.

“There’s no fairy.”

Hyrule cocked his head. “Is that unusual?”

Twilight nodded. “Every time I come here, there’s always a fairy living under this skull.”

“Can’t blame her for moving out,” Legend drawled, gesturing at the scenery.

Twilight’s brow furrowed. “Yeah… I guess.”

And then he stepped forward.

Sky sucked in the biggest breath he could manage, hoping the air would somehow clear his head, but it only made him feel like he was drowning further.

Twilight widened his stance.

Sky exhaled, shaking, a chill wracking his spine.

Twilight placed his hands on the door.

Sky inhaled, his hand fluttering to the Master Sword, squeezing its hilt like a lifeline.

With a heave, Twilight  _ shoved _ upwards, and the door careened into the ceiling with a  _ crash _ , fine streams of sand filtering down from the shockwave.

_ Another f*cking dark tunnel _ stretched before them, and Sky forced himself to let out his breath.

And Twilight ran in.

And so did the others.

And so did Sky.

There was a moment of panic and claustrophobia before Twilight shoved another door open and they moved through before it slammed shut behind them, everyone flinching and looking back at the sound.

It was the kind of thing nobody ever got used to.

Turning back to face the front, his hand now squeezing the life out of the handle of the Master Sword, Sky gasped at the most cavernous room he’d ever  _ seen _ .

The ornate ceilings were encrusted with geometric block patterns protruding from its ridges and pillars and ledges, the whole expanse dizzying array of shapes and angles. The room was circular, the platform they were on arcing wide around the perimeter to either side, and deep in the center lay a massive pit, not bottomless, but deep enough to leave everyone minding their distance from the edge. In the center rose a cylinder-like platform, the bridge connecting it to the outside ring laying on the opposite side of the circular room from everyone, yet another Hylian Crest hanging on the wall behind it.

And all the walls in the pit were lined with a  _ dizzying _ number of spinner tracks.

“Holy  _ sh*t. _ ”

Wind had just about summed it up.

Twilight slowly pulled his hand from the hilt of his own sword, looking around carefully.

“... I don’t understand.”

Time stepped forward, placing a hand on Twilight’s shoulder, but the latter shrugged it off, instead sprinting along the side of the dropoff and staring down into it carefully as he ran. The room was dead silent save the deep echoes of his footsteps compounding on each other, the hollow multitude a cacophony in the air. The rest of the heroes didn’t move much, only spreading out a little to give each other more space.

Twilight, though, reached the bridge and crossed it, staring into the pit on either side of him as he traversed it, now standing in the center of the room and boring into every inch of the room with his wide, confused gaze, one hand running its fingers through his hair.

There was nothing here.

_ There was nothing here. _

They were going to  _ f*cking die _ down here because there was _ NOTHING F*CKING HERE! _

_ There was no way out. _

_ They were going to have to death march all the way back across that f*cking desert and then they’d all die of thirst. _

_ Because there was nothing left. _

Sky’s breaths tripled on themselves, a racing cadence, a pounding, a drilling, a breakneck, panicked frenzy of heartbeats shuddering through his chest.

“Is that a door?”

Sky sucked in an inhale at Four’s question, trying to cobble together some semblance of sanity— _ focus, he meant to think focus— _ to listen to Twilight’s response.

Twilight looked back at where Four was pointing and sighed.

“Yeah, there’s a room after this one.”

Sighs of relief blossomed behind him, but Sky wasn’t so quick to release his own.

“Why the stress, then?” Warriors called over carefully, “is there something wrong with the next room?”

Twilight squirmed a little, but it was clear he was trying to hide it. 

_ The very last room of this dungeon is where I lost her. _

Sky grimaced.

_ Sky’s fault. _

_ Atone.  _

_ Fix this.  _

“It’s not bad, no.” Twilight fidgeted with his pelt. “It’s actually outdoors, so we’ll get some fresh air.”

“ _ F*ck  _ yes,” Wind muttered somewhere behind Sky.

“So it should be alright then, right?” Wild leaned forward curiously, watching as Twilight turned to face the opposite door. “ _ Right? _ ”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Twilight called back, crossing the bridge again. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

The other heroes moved to catch up, their footsteps ricocheting off the ceiling in a deafening echo and firing back at them, the path before them covered in a fine layer of sand. The curve was wide, and as they walked, the room shifted and twisted with the subtle changing of perspective

They caught up to Twilight, and the nine heroes lifted their eyes to the doorway ahead, one that, they now noticed, carried the telltale waft of fresh air.

“Take two, I guess,” muttered Twilight, and he entered, the others following suit.

_ Breathe. _

_ Breathe. _

_ Breathe. _

_ Breathe. _

_ Breathe. _

Thinking that to himself instead of  _ actually _ breathing wasn’t getting him anywhere, but his chest was no longer under his control, spasming as he struggled to keep up, physically  _ and _ mentally.

They kept moving on, getting closer and closer, Twilight promising them combat, yet all they ever found were empty rooms.

Empty camps and empty dungeons and  _ empty rooms _ and  _ more rooms, always more rooms, when would it end? _

_ WHEN WOULD THIS NIGHTMARE END?! _

It was pitch black again, but there was a staircase.

As they climbed, it steadily lightened and wind howled down the corridor, the steps becoming more and more defined. The tall, strong, confident silhouettes of the other heroes loomed in front of Sky and he squeezed his eyes shut.

_ Don’t think about them right now. _

_ Don’t let yourself get caught up. _

_ You have one job. _

_ Succeed, and it will all finally be over. _

_ Fail, and your life will be forfeit.  _

_ Take it yourself if need be. _

_ This is your last chance to fix everything. _

_ DON’T F*CK IT UP. _

A stiff wind promising a bitingly chilled night swept by, slanted shafts of gold slicing over pillars, beams, and corners, the distant sun hovering just barely above the horizon, the heroes squinting and stretching in the light and air. Before them stood a hefty wrought-iron gate, caging them in against the sweeping view of everything, the ruins, the camp, the cruel, fractured expanse of desert,  _ another f*cking Hylian Crest with mangled wings _ , and the wide, amber-drenched sky.

“Dammit, I thought it was earlier than this,” Wind muttered under his breath, but nobody acknowledged it, the tension in the air palpable.

Twilight hardly spared any of it a glance, spinning sharply on his heel and cutting a path sideways, up a staircase that curved up and back, onto a large raised dais that the door they’d just exited seemed to be set into.

“Hey, actually, Twilight, hold on a damn second,” Legend bit out, freezing Twilight in his tracks, though he didn’t otherwise acknowledge Legend’s words. “I’m not a fan of this f*cking anticipation game. How many rooms are  _ left _ in this hellhole?”

Twilight didn’t look behind him as he spoke.

“Just one.”

And he continued to walk, the others jogging to catch up.

So.

_ This _ was it, then.

This was the last room. At the top of these stairs.

Breathe.

Sky ran a hand down his face. He really didn’t know what to do with his anticipation anymore. His stomach ached, his mind was numb, and his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. He’d resigned himself to it by now, though, and he followed after the others, hopping over gaps in the stairs and climbing ever upwards, that agonized, howling wind moaning into the lifeless desert.

The top of the stairs crept into view and rubble piled up ahead, but Twilight banked hard to the side again, back towards the center of whatever curve they were tracing. They passed through an arch, doubling back and walking along a row of them, the evening sun carving harsh shadows into their sides. They continued through the curving halfway, the inside a solid wall and the outside lined with arches into the gold-steeped desert, for  _ some _ length of time before the inner wall fell away without warning, revealing a wide, open amphitheatre-like space.

A circular wall enclosed the area, towering above with layers upon layers of arches. Those six pillars gouged the earth around it, painting long black streaks of shadow across the sand-covered surface. A thick slab of obsidian was struck into the center, twisted manacles still dangling from its surface, various other chains littering the edges of the room, coiled up against the walls.

Sky noticed none of this, though, every fragment of his shattered attention zeroed ahead of him like _daggers._ Between Sky and the obsidian stood a raised rectangular platform, adorned with a set of stairs and topped with an ornate, spiraling metal mirror frame, yet it housed no mirror. Cradled in the empty frame, reclining with its feet up against the swirls of metal, laid the inverse of a human, the void-like shadow of a person given physical manifestation and choosing to flaunt its twisted metal throne, its bright red eyes boring forward with calculated _mirth_.

“Took you long enough.”

That timbre, so  _ careless,  _ so  _ deliberate. _

That  _ motherf*cker. _

The sun sank lower in the sky. The shafts of black shifted across the ground. The bands of gold flared into  _ blazing, fiery scarlet. _

The sky welled up with blood.

Everything went red.

And Sky fucking  _ snapped. _

Sky couldn’t taste anything through the dryness of his mouth, his nose  _ burning _ with the biting arid wind. Every capillary in his system  _ raged _ with a slicing numbness as all sound was washed away by the roaring of sheer  _ hatred _ in his ears. And in his vision there was nothing, nothing save the red, the red of hellfire and blood and death and Sky’s  _ guilt _ . A world of red and one black bastard.

Sky’s throat felt like it was being shredded to ribbons from the sheer force of his battle cry, but he never heard it.

The whole world melted away.

It was just him and the Dark.

He  _ ripped _ the Master Sword from its sheath, tearing the straps that held it to his back in the process. It probably clattered to the ground behind him, but he shot forward regardless, his legs no longer his own, his sailcloth flaring behind him like red wings of death.

His eyes narrowed. This ended  _ now. _

It was still lounging in the mirror frame, utterly unbothered by Sky’s charge, but that was its fatal mistake, its  _ arrogance _ , Sky would exploit that, he’d  _ DESTROY _ that.

He arrived at the top of the stairs without any recollection of climbing them, diving forward and driving the point of his sword in front of him. 

The sleepless nights, the terror for himself and his comrades, the endless wondering, the agony, the torment, the  _ rage. _

Warriors had closed his eyes at that descending swing and everything was red. Wind dashed into that stampede all over again and everything was red, Wild  _ smiled _ and his face ran red with blood, three heroes pressed blades to each other’s chests and everything was  _ red.  _ Twilight’s sword squelched through his own abdomen, Sky drowning in his nightmare, his blood  _ brilliant vermillion.  _ Four dangled from a chasm’s edge and the sky flared scarlet. Hyrule burst with magic, but the lighting was  _ crimson _ and Legend was  _ bathed  _ in the light, waterlogged by his own blood.

He was going to  _ spear  _ that bastard like a  _ stuck pig  _ for the sh*t it put them through.

If it was arrogant, it had good reason to be. Before Sky’s blade could connect, the Dark flicked into nothing, the mirror frame now stark, black, and utterly empty.

_ The figure blinked out of existence, flickering out of sight without any fanfare or effect, simply gone as if it were never there at all. _

Sky was a bastard fool, he  _ knew _ it could do that, he’d  _ seen _ it happen, Shadow had  _ told _ him it could happen and he’d rushed forward like a  _ mad _ —

Before he even completed his strike, something connected with the side of his head, throwing him to the side and  _ bashing _ his opposite temple against the inside of the mirror frame. Through the roaring in his ears, a high-pitched ring sang out. Sky’s vision blipped, the red searing into black for a moment before he staggered to his feet, leaning heavily against the frame and shearing his free forearm against his face to clear the wetness from where it blossomed worryingly close to his eyes.

His balance wavered, and he turned back behind him, but the Dark was absent _—but_ _Ghirahim ALWAYS warped behind him_ —and Sky felt something like a thick club connect with his side— _oh, something crunched_ —and he was thrown from the staircase, sailing through the air and crashing into some far wall, pain firing through his system and leaving him crumpled on the floor.

This was no Ghirahim.

Warriors, Wind, Wild, Four, Time, Hyrule, Twilight,  _ protecting Legend, _ this was for—

No.

This was for  _ himself. _

This bastard had turned him into this  _ mockery _ of a hero, Sky’s own self lying dead at his feet somewhere in the past.

Sky was avenging  _ himself. _

Pain was an afterthought, his searing muscles a distant static as he shot to his feet with a vengeance, shearing the blood from his face with his forearm again. He thrusted his sword skyward, barely aware of the telltale hum of magic resonating in the blade. 

_ There. _

That  _ vile _ form hung in the air, doing  _ something _ —Sky couldn’t even tell if it was looking at him or not anymore, but he didn’t  _ need _ to.

He felt the Master Sword’s holy light reach its apex and swung it down with a  _ roar,  _ a faint burst of luminance wavering through the sea of crimson  _ blood _ the only indication that he’d done anything at all.

The Dark must have noticed it because it blinked out of existence again, flicking to the side and sending an arc of shadow sweeping out— _ far from Sky, he could get another strike in _ —all the while its form shook with  _ laughter, that MOTHERF*CKER. _

Sky thrusted his blade high as if to gouge out the sun itself, power steadily building inside the weapon.

He remembered too late how vulnerable he was left during a skyward strike. With his right arm raised high, his entire flank was exposed, wide open to the  _ searing brand of agony _ that tore into his shoulder. 

_ It had burned, that meant the wound was cauterized, he wasn’t bleeding yet, if he just moved FAST enough _ —

The silhouette that had flickered next to him, its fingers buried up to their second knuckle in his shoulder, blinked back away.

It was a fool. It was  _ hurting _ him, but Sky’s movement was unrestricted. His powerful, aching, shaking legs bore him as he tore forward, eyes wildly scanning the battlefield for any sign of— _ there. _

It stood atop the obsidian pillar, stretching lazily, and Sky struck upwards, preparing for the telltale hum of magic but instead his muscles spasmed, physically unable to raise his arm, and the pain he barely felt tore a gasp from his ragged throat that tasted of blood.

He stumbled to one knee, his right arm hanging limp but his grip on the Master Sword never wavering. That bastard could tear it from his cold, dead hands.

It vanished from the top of the midnight block of stone, Sky frantically casting his gaze around, searching for any sign of—

In one swift sweep, his legs were torn from beneath him, knocking him flat on his back, the breath leaving his lungs in a jolt and he coughed, blinking at the sky, blood-red and pierced only by the perfect void of black, carved into a shape that Sky recognized far too well. His loose, fluffy locks, the soft shape of his face, everything down to the earrings he wore and the sailcloth wrapped around his shoulders.

It was Sky, standing down over his own crumpled, bleeding form, blazing red daggers squinting ever so slightly in a dark grin.

And it laughed.

It laughed Sky’s laugh.

Not his manic, panicked laugh that he’d come to laugh to himself whenever the cruelty of fate became too much to bear, no it laughed the laugh Sky  _ used _ to have, free and light and warm. 

_ It was distracted. _

Sky swept his left arm forward, trying to snatch at its ankles— _ his _ ankles, to pull it down with him, but his hand merely passed through air, the form materializing behind him and driving its heel into his midsection.

Sky’s diaphragm shuddered, spasming uselessly in his chest, only drawing in superficial amounts of air. The figure was gone again, leaving Sky bleeding, wheezing, dazed, on the ground.

Like a  _ f*cking afterthought. _

This was  _ their _ battle.

_ Theirs. _

This was personal.

So where  _ was _ that bastard?

He moved to drag himself to his feet, but his body  _ refused _ to so much as twitch, a terrifying paralysis settling over him as his body confiscated control from his shattered, shattered mind. 

Even his own body had rejected him.

So he lay there, unable to move, the endless sea of red that was his vision pulsing with black auras as his diaphragm continued to fail.

He  _ needed _ to get back in control of himself  _ now. _

Breathe.

That was what he always did to calm down.

Breathe.

But he didn’t need to  _ calm down! _

He needed to get in  _ control _ .

_ Breathe. _

His focus moved to his diaphragm, he was there, slowly but surely wresting command back, slowing its shuddering,  _ aching— _ oh that was definitely some internal bleeding—heaves.

He could still win this.

That bastard had made one fatal flaw.

It drew its power from hate. Hate it had fostered, had  _ cultivated. _

It had laid a buffet of power before Sky,  _ using _ Sky.

And it was time for Sky to tap into that very power.

Of which there was  _ no _ shortage.

Sky was going to wrap his hands around that  _ motherf*cker _ ’s throat and  _ throttle  _ it, he’d bury its face into the stones until its red eyes were nothing more than  _ blood _ .

And he twitched.

He’d  _ destroy _ it,  _ obliterate _ it,  _ grind _ it into a  _ paste _ and watch it  _ burn _ . 

His hands shifted, moving beneath him, the Master Sword’s blade scraping against the ground with the movement. 

_ Hatred. Hatred and malice and suffering and agony _ .

He pulled his knees up, his core screeching its protests.

_ Hate. _

_ Death. _

And Sky rose to his feet, his posture crooked, his face and sailcloth doubtless caked in blood, the Master Sword pointed uselessly at the ground, a death grip strangling its handle.

Sky scanned the blood-red haze, the black spots finally fading and leaving him with— _ there _ .

The motherf*cker itself. 

It glanced back over its shoulder, spotting Sky on his feet and apparating before him.

It stood there, still wearing Sky’s likeness, and cocked its head curiously.

It was waiting.

It didn’t speak, but the challenge hung in the air.

_ What exactly are you going to do, little sky child? _

No, this was no Ghirahim and he was no sky child.

He was a bloodthirsty weapon of slaughter.

And it was a role he would fulfill as if Hylia herself had bequeathed it upon him.

He knew she hadn’t, really.

Hylia had long since forsaken him.

He moved his left hand to his blade, grasping the hilt two-handed to compensate for his searing shoulder, and feinted forward, shifting his weight to his other leg.

He was gonna sweep this motherf*cker onto its back before it knew what hit—

It snapped its fingers and every vein and artery and  _ neuron _ in Sky’s body was launched backwards, Sky’s back smashing against  _ some _ hard surface or other, some pressure on his wrists trying to make itself known but he shoved it back, focusing only on the  _ f*cking piece of sh*t that vanished AGAIN. _

He’d find it. He’d find it and he’d  _ rip it to shreds with his bare— _

He froze.

Something wasn’t right.

Why couldn’t he move?

He shook, writhing, trying to understand what was  _ happening _ to him.

He tried to steady his breaths, wresting himself back under control. 

He lowered his gaze, trying to make out his feet. They were there, the tips of his boots just planted on the ground, the rest of Sky’s form spread eagle across… he squinted. It looked to be made of stone. Sky traced his form with his eyes, carefully taking stock. His legs looked to be in good condition—not that he’d be able to tell if they were bloodied or not—and his torso also looked to be without visible damage. His eyes swept to the left, surveying where his arm was bent up and back, locked in a gleaming gold manacle, the chain extending far above him, drilled into the stone. His right arm was the same, though the Master Sword still hung from his clenched fist.

He’d never let it go.

He snapped his head forward, scanning frantically for that silhouette.

_ Where was that son of a b*tch? _

He heard a voice above him—was that  _ Wind?— _ but when he shot his gaze up to look, he smacked his head against the hard, cold, stone. 

He took a moment to clear his head, listening intently for the voice that was a  _ perfect _ copy of Wind’s, down to the slightest inflection.

“Hey, guys, wanna hear a  _ story? _ ”

Sky bristled, twisting his wrists against the chains, but the manacles did nothing but tear cruelly into his gloves, shredding the leather with every movement he made.

“Once upon a time, a very long time ago, Ganondorf, the demon thief, an evil-magic wielder renowned for his ruthlessness,  _ King of Darkness _ ,” the voice quieted, presumably because it was turning away from where it had been directed at Sky, “the root of  _ all your misery, _ ” the voice grew louder again, “was chained to this very spot to await his trial.”

There was a festering presence in the corner of Sky’s vision, and as he flicked his eyes over, he was met with two blazing red eyes set into a dark caricature of Wind’s face, a careless tilt to its  _ stolen head _ .

Its lips were mere inches from Sky’s ear as it spoke, and he could  _ feel _ strands of some imitation of hair tickling its tip.

Its voice dripped back into that smooth, unearthly blend of tones and lilts, all of them, yet none of them at once.

“And since your  _ failure _ is the reason he even  _ exists _ , you deserve to be bound here more than he  _ ever _ could.”

Sky  _ roared, _ lashing out, wailing against his chains that only tore further at his wrists, his leather braces now truly shredded against the cutting edges of the metal cuffs.

The Dark skipped away, blinking into existence a little ways in front of Sky.

“And now,” it started, bowing theatrically before him, resuming its original form, one arm deftly held out to the side, its fingers spread for flair, and the other folded neatly under its abdomen, “O exalted Hero chosen by the goddess, wielder of the holy Master Sword’s sacred light,” it looked up, its piercing crimson eyes filled with that  _ dark, intelligent glee _ —

“Enjoy the show.”

And Sky had no  _ f*cking _ idea how to react to that, the miasma of  _ blood _ that filled his vision obscuring any sort of  _ show _ that that bastard could possibly be putting on.

He raised his eyes to his left wrist, the manacles thick and angular, built for hands far bigger than his own and yet they held firm. He twisted his hand, hoping to pull it through, but the metal only dug into his flesh. He tried to block out the bite, shove it back, squirrel it away like he had  _ so _ much for so  _ long _ , but it slipped through his grasp, refusing to yield until he stopped  _ struggling _ , stopped raging uselessly against that which he couldn’t change.

But  _ NO! _

After all the  _ sh*t _ he’d slogged through, this was  _ nothing. _

He sawed and writhed, trying to pry his hand free from the metal, but the pain only grew, his hand slick and wet and the agony  _ spreading _ , twisting, squirreling its way up his arm.

_ The Master Sword. _

He still had the Master Sword.

That was always the answer.

He twisted, trying to move the blade even the slightest bit, but  _ no, _ from where his wrist was chained against stone, moving his hand would cause the pommel to grind against it, and he risked losing his grip.

And that was unacceptable.

So the blade jutted out, then, down and forward, at a forty-five degree angle above the stone

He braced his feet against whatever he was chained to, leaning all his weight forward, trying to tear through his chains, but they only cut farther into his wrists.

_ NO! _

_ HE COULDN’T FAIL NOW! _

_ HE WOULDN’T! _

There was a pressure.

Something soft, yet rough.

Warm.

It was in his hand. His left hand.

And then it squeezed. 

Sky blinked.

What was going  _ on _ , everything was still a blur of  _ red,  _ where even—

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to gain some shred of autonomy over his mind.

“...ky?”

The roaring in his ears shirked back ever so slightly, zeroing in on the sound.

There was a soft presence, then, on his right cheek, pulling his face gently to the left and carefully cupping it, a rough thumb running gingerly over Sky’s blood-crusted skin.

“...eed you to look at me. Do you think you can do that?”

The presence in his hand squeezed again and he reciprocated, carefully now feeling out the fingers and the palm that fit awkwardly into his own.

Sky slipped his eyes open, little by little, until his vision returned, the glaring red crimson of fresh blood drying into something darker, less saturated, and somewhere, a face stared worriedly into his.

Sky blinked frantically, trying to make out its contours.

Somewhere behind the face was a darkening expanse, the red draining away, leaving only a deep navy with one final burst of violet clinging to the horizon, final droplets of scarlet collecting only on the distant mountains.

And the face in front of him smiled weakly.

It was Legend.

Full color.

_ His _ Legend.

“Hey, Sky, it’s okay now.” An explosion shook the earth somewhere behind him, rattling the ground. 

Legend chuckled weakly to himself. “Okay, not quite, but it will be.” He sobered. “Listen, Sky, we’re going to get you out of there”—why would they  _ do _ that? They didn’t know why he had to win this fight. They didn’t  _ understand _ —“once we get the chance. I need you to keep yourself in one piece for now, though, okay?”

Legend’s face was finally coming into full view, night falling fully behind him, the sky a budding garden of stars. His left thumb was resting on Sky’s cheek, his other hand outstretched and wrapped in Sky’s own. Legend struggled to reach it, though, his heels not touching the ground as he squeezed Sky’s hand one more time.

Sky nodded, squeezing back.

Relief flickered across Legend’s face. He opened his mouth to speak once more. “I lo—” 

Sky couldn’t make out the rest of what he said, a distant cry of  _ get down _ followed by another explosion that blossomed into flame  _ far too close for comfort _ , Legend diving off to the side to take cover.

Sky leaned over, trying to make out Legend’s retreating form, but there was nothing more than a cloud of sand.

He was gone.

In front of Sky now lay… nothing. 

Echoes of light flickered across the stone arches ahead of him, their sources bursting and blasting behind him, their shockwaves sending sand streaming down— _ the slab of obsidian. That was what he was chained to— _ and landing in his hair and eyes. The distant navy of the night sky still barely held some residual light, the towers above him just retaining their shape. The emblems that topped the spires sparkled with the final flickers of scarlet, the light of the sun finally fading into the distance.

Sky scanned the, well, sky, searching for the light of the moon that would carry them through this battle.

He was met with only a multitude of stars, dazzling in their number, but there hung no moon.

Sky gasped a little, tensing.

There  _ was _ no moon.

It had been waning for weeks now. Two nights ago it had been the barest of slivers.

The sky would be dark tonight.

Sky slackened, but was struck back to himself by the biting of the manacles into his raw, bleeding skin.

Holy _ sh*t _ , that was a lot of blood.

He hadn’t even noticed.

Sky let out a broken sigh. A blazing yellow glow arced along the columns, the sound of a shock arrow erupting somewhere behind him. There was shouting.

He hadn’t noticed a lot of things.

The cool wind returned, tossing Sky’s hair back and forth lightly where it wasn’t hardened by his own quickly drying blood.

Hylia, he didn’t even remember most of what had happened.

Nothing save the chaos that had become his mind.

A sickening crunch echoed somewhere to his left and Sky stretched forwards, trying to make out who had been hit. A blue and white streak flew forward, skidding across the stones between Sky’s chains and the mirror—who could  _ that  _ be?

Whoever it was swayed to their feet, clutching their midsection— _ that was Warriors, he was still wearing his old uniform— _ and brandished his weapon, the Dark flickering into the space at the center of his back.

“ _ Behind you! _ ” cried Sky, grimacing as he accidentally aggravated his wrists by straining against the chains. Warriors turned to look, but the Dark snapped its fingers, launching Warriors backwards where he crashed into the wall and slid down to the corner where it met the floor.

There was movement above him, though, and Sky raised his vision to see Wild running along the raised outcropping at the perimeter of the ampitheatre, a shock arrow striking the ground where the Dark had been standing, erupting into a flare of sparks. 

“ _ Dammit, where’s that f*cker now? _ ” came Wild’s frustrated groan, at the same time as an  _ “over here!” _ cropped up in Wind’s voice, somewhere behind Sky. A burst of red flared, and Legend swore.

Every time they attacked it, it only seemed to warp away again—was it even  _ possible _ to land a hit? If their attacks only let it vanish, giving it the advantage, was there any point to attacking it at all? 

Sky twisted to try and see, but couldn’t make anything out, returning his gaze forward, where two red eyes hung back next to the mirror frame, a playful tilt to the Dark’s face.

“ _ It’s over here! _ ” Sky cried out, the Dark blinking patiently, as if waiting for something it knew would never come _. _

Sky’s words echoed against the cavernous stone walls, but there was no response.

“Found him!” came Wild’s cry, dashing along his perch, a pulsing yellow arrow in his outstretched hand angled down towards where the Dark was reclining against the side of the mirror frame.

In a flurry of footsteps, the others rushed forward, Sky glancing left and right frantically, carefully surveying their silhouettes— _ were they all accounted for? Was anyone limping?  _

Wild was still pointing down at the Dark’s form, Warriors bracing himself against the wall as he rose to his feet. Time rushed forward on Sky’s left, his sword drawn and a thin streak of blood dotting his cheek. Nothing major, it looked. Four followed suit, his eyes ablaze with fury, and he was  _ definitely _ favoring his right side.

To his right, Wind skidded forward, looking entirely unharmed, Twilight close behind him, though his eyes were haunted. Sky relaxed ever so slightly when Legend entered his field of view again, but he froze at the sight of Legend’s hands, both of them, smeared with blood, most of it on his right palm.

His right palm.

That was  _ Sky’s _ blood.

To Sky’s left, Hyrule rushed into view, his sword glowing a faint scarlet hue.

The heroes surrounded him, weapons drawn, brows set, all of them brandishing their might against their enemy.

_ They didn’t even know who they were fighting. _

“Now, now, do you really trust me less than you trust  _ each other? _ You’re all so quick to claim  _ brotherhood _ , yet you won’t  _ tell _ each other  _ anything. _ ”

A dark satisfaction bubbled up inside Sky at the number of eyes that surreptitiously turned his way, confirming  _ every thought _ that had been swirling through his mind. 

They really did hate him.

And how could they not?

He  _ earned _ it.

Distantly, his anger raged.  _ Why the f*ck were they looking at HIM?! THEY WERE THE ONES WHO NEVER F*CKING SAID ANYTHING. _

“Take your dear friend Four, for example. Vio’s alive and well. Four  _ would _ know, wouldn’t he. After all, they spoke just a few days ago. But surely that’s an  _ irrelevant _ little detail. Nothing worth mentioning to your self-proclaimed  _ family. _ ”

Now the heroes didn’t even try to hide the glances they shot at Four, all eyes zeroing in on the teen.

“Is this true?” came Time’s steady voice, looking down from where he towered our Four’s small figure. Four squirmed, and Sky pressed himself against the stone as best he could.

Evidently, Four’s lack of answer was answer enough, Time turning away. Four opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out. His shoulders rose ever so slightly and he stepped backwards, frantically looking between Warriors and Hyrule, the former raising his eyebrow in a very clear order that he explain himself.

“I—” Four stepped backwards, his shoulders meeting the wall behind him, and his gaze flitted hopefully to Sky’s. The two made eye contact, but Sky’s throat was raw and tight. He doubted words would come, even if he knew what to say.

Wild leapt down from his perch, startling Four, who stumbled away, his back now pressed firmly against the wall. 

“Vio’s  _ alive? _ ”

Four nodded sheepishly.

“Then what the hell were all the theatrics about?! You could have gotten us  _ killed! _ ”

“I didn’t know he was alive,” came Four’s quiet, rushed voice.

“And when, exactly, were you planning on telling us? Do you have any idea how  _ worried _ we all were about you?”

“Yes—well… I—”

Four was cut off by Wind drawing his bow in a flash, a vermillion aura flickering atop his arrowhead that was angled straight for the Dark. He loosed his bolt, the crimson streak sailing through the air.

Sky braced himself, shielding his face with his shoulder as he awaited the impending blast.

There was none.

Carefully returning his gaze forward, Sky  _ flinched _ when he registered what he’d seen.

The Dark still faced Four, Wind’s arrow having been aimed at the back of his head, but the arrow was suspended in midair behind the Dark’s form, midnight fingers wrapped around its shaft.

That bastard just  _ caught _ the f*cking arrow.

It tutted, twirling the arrow idly as its fiery glow fizzled out.

“Come, now, you should know better than to interrupt  _ family bonding time. _ ” It turned back to face Wind, continuing. “That was very rude of you. And you know what happens to  _ rude _ people.”

Wind tensed, his grip on his bow tightening. He stepped closer to Twilight.

The Dark placed its other hand on the arrow’s shaft, shaking its head in disappointment. And with a deafening  _ crack _ it snapped the arrow in two.

And Wild  _ burst into flames.  _

Not Wind.

_ Wild,  _ who the Dark hadn’t even turned to face. It merely stood there, smiling to itself as Wild’s  _ screams _ echoed with the thundering of the blaze.

Hyrule and Four stumbled back in shock, Warriors pressing himself against the wall and shielding his face from the blast.

“ _CUB!_ ” came Twilight’s hoarse cry from the other side of the ampitheatre, “ _WILD!_ ”

He rushed forward, his feet pounding on the stone tiles, but in the darkening shadow of the towers, Twilight couldn’t make out the mass of darkness that swept down, batting him backwards into the wall, Legend rushing to his side.

“You  _ MOTHERF*CKER, _ ” Wind cried, marching towards the Dark. “Why did you  _ do  _ that?!”

The Dark threw back its head in laughter— _ laughter that shamelessly masqueraded in Wild’s voice as if this were all some sick joke _ —before turning back to Wind, slouching ever so slightly as if patronizing a child. “It’s like I said. You were being very rude.” It straightened. “Keep this in mind next time you consider  _ interfering. _ ”

The light from the blaze had finally died down, Wild’s limp, unmoving form curled at the base of the wall. The sickening stench of burning hair clogged Sky’s nose and he coughed, but the thick perfume lingered over him like a death sentence. 

Twilight shrugged Legend off of himself, stumbling to his feet and clutching his head. He reached behind him and— _ what WAS that?— _ there was a shock of white, a—

A mask.

Since when did Twilight have a mask?

_ Since Time gave him one. _

Snippets of that conversation rushed through Sky’s head as he frantically tried to find out  _ what was Twilight DOING? _

_ Lose control… The mask does not like to let go of its host once it’s found one. It’s getting impatient with me … transformation magic. _

Sky pressed his back against the cold, hard stone.

What the  _ f*ck? _

“ _ Twilight, don’t you DARE! _ ” roared Time from across the arena, one hand outstretched. “It’s only going to make everything worse!”

“ _ How could it get worse?! _ ” Twilight cried, but Time’s furious gaze stilled his hand.

Hyrule frantically rushed to Wild’s side, hands outstretched and already brimming with a warm, life-giving glow, but the crisp snapping of the Dark’s fingers reversed Hyrule’s course, rocketing him backwards through the air, smacking into the wall a little ways from where Legend was still crouched by Twilight’s side.

“ _ Hyrule! _ ”

Legend shot to his feet, hands fisted at his sides as he rounded on the Dark.

“ _ Don’t F*CKING touch him! _ ”

Legend reached into the pouch on his waist, drawing a second fire rod to match the one already clenched in his left hand.

The red jewels that adorned them grew threateningly bright, but stilled at the Dark’s next words.

“Oh, but  _ Legend _ ,” it purred, “I’m doing you a  _ favor. _ ”

“ _ Shut your F*CKING mou— _ ”

Legend never finished his sentence, the heels of his hands rushing up pressing against his forehead as he swayed dangerously, a groan escaping his lips. In the corner of Sky’s vision, Warriors leaned his full weight onto the wall, moaning. After a moment, the two were silenced, snapping back to alertness.

That didn’t…

It wasn’t…

Had it given their memories  _ back? _

It could  _ do  _ that?

“Holy _ sh*t, _ ” Legend admonished, staring down at his hands.

Warriors ran a hand over his abdomen absently.

And in unison, both their heads turned to Hyrule.

Hyrule, who stared up at them, eyes wide with fear.

Hyrule, who shot up to his feet, stumbling back until the thick stone wall stopped him.

“How convenient it is that we find ourselves in a sacred hall of judgement and retribution,” the Dark drawled, Hyrule shaking as he watched it speak, the wall supporting his full weight. “ _ I _ won’t lay a finger on him. I’ll leave it to you to administer justice, O  _ righteous heroes. _ ”

Warriors was still slouched by the wall next to Wild’s body. Thin wisps of smoke still rose from the teen’s crumpled form.

Legend, though. Legend spun on his heel, turning fully to face the quivering Hyrule.

“Why?  _ Why did you do it? _ ”

Hyrule dropped his sword, the clash of steel against stone ringing out in the deafening silence after Legend’s outburst. He shrunk back, sliding down the wall as Legend neared him, pulling his knees up to his chest.

“ _ Why did you lie to me? _ ”

At that, Hyrule froze, his face a mask of terrified guilt.

Legend didn’t say anything more, clearly waiting for an answer.

An answer that Hyrule couldn’t provide.

“H-hold on a damn second,” came Wind’s voice, wavering with uncertainty and dread. “Are you saying that…” he trailed off, gesturing to Hyrule and then back to Warriors. “He didn’t…”

“Oh, but he  _ did _ ,” came the Dark’s velvet voice.

“ _ Enough of your games! _ ” Warriors cried, stepping away from the wall with fire in his eyes.

The Dark grinned. 

“Fine, then. I’ll stop playing around.”

With that, it snapped its fingers, Hyrule’s abandoned sword flying into its grasp, and the Dark blinked from existence. Sky’s gaze frantically darted around, but there was no need.

It was hard to miss the way Warriors screamed.

Sky didn’t know why he looked; he already knew what he would see.  _ Hylia, wasn’t once enough? _ Warriors blanched, Hyrule’s sword once again sheathed in his  _ gut, _ but this time he fell to the ground beside Wild, not Legend— _ but what difference did it make? _

Last time, Sky had stood by idly out of his own misguided self-importance. Now, he  _ couldn’t  _ act, despite how desperately he  _ needed _ to.

He wasn’t sure which was worse.

But everyone else, those who were free to move around at will, why weren’t they  _ doing _ anything? Didn’t they know that Sky would  _ kill _ to be free of his chains?

He scanned their faces, and realization dawned.

They were terrified.

What  _ were _ they going to do? What exactly were they hoping to accomplish? They didn’t have a problem attacking the Dark if it endangered themselves, but if it was going to dish out retribution arbitrarily, only punishing their allies for their own actions,  _ no f*cking wonder _ none of them had moved.

Well.

Then there was Legend. 

“Oh no you  _ f*cking don’t, _ ” Legend growled, spinning his twin fire rods in his hands. “Not on my watch, you  _ bastard. _ ”

Swiping one fire rod forward, he summoned a jet of flame, filling the arena with blinding light, a wave of heat washing over Sky. In the order of his eye, Sky could see Legend diving into the blaze, likely intending to use it as cover.

From within the fading flames that wafted across the ground, another blast burst, a pillar of fire striking towards the sky. 

The blaze began to clear, but it left spots wavering on Sky’s retinas, the whole world far blacker than it had been just moments ago.

They’d all just lost their night vision.

Legend, you  _ imbecile. _

And there he stood, up on the platform where the Dark had been, right next to the mirror frame,  _ a siting f*cking duck! _

_ How the hell was Sky supposed to protect Legend if he was just going to pull stupid sh*t like this anyway?! _

Before Sky could warn Legend about the silhouette that had manifested behind him, hell, before Sky could even  _ notice _ it, Legend’s sword was arcing through the air— _ when did he switch from his fire rod?— _ and he was throwing himself into the swing, his brilliant amber blade slicing outwards, and the tip sinking, ever so slightly, into the Dark’s chest.

It moved backwards, staring down at its chest. A shimmering black ooze dripped from the wound, reflecting the last vestiges of light.

“You filthy  _ mutt, _ ” the Dark growled, fixing its gaze on Legend, who now fully faced it. It flexed its fingers, midnight tendrils forming one hand into a blade, but Legend wasted no time, diving in for another strike. Sky screamed a warning, but it was too late. The Dark dodged Legend’s strike, reappearing behind him and fisting a hand in his hair, yanking him backwards and driving its blade straight through Legend, effectively stabbing him in the back.

Sky couldn’t make out Legend’s face, but the choked gasp, the scream he tried to bite back but still escaped, strangled and wet, those would forever sear themselves into his memory alongside Wild’s agonized cry and Warriors’ horrified face.

The Dark leaned forward, pressing its face next to Legend’s, but it clearly wanted what it said next to be heard by all.

“ _ This is how Marin felt when you killed her. _ ”

Sky had a million questions but there was no  _ time _ for that, the Dark ripping its hand from Legend’s abdomen in a spray of liquid, his deep ocean blue tunic quickly blossoming with wine-dark blood. 

And in that moment, Sky knew one thing.

He had utterly failed Legend.

Legend, who had been the one to take himself away from the battle, wasting precious seconds to  _ clean up Sky’s mistakes _ and bring him back to himself.

Failure.

Failure.

_ Failure.  _

Now holding him up almost entirely by his hair, the Dark moved Legend over the edge of the raised platform but stopped, reconsidering. It surveyed the other Links, all standing by the edges of the arena, far too far from Legend to be of any use.

“No, actually. If you insist on  _ behaving _ like a dog, always doing as you’re  _ told _ , never questioning orders, even at the expense of  _ hundreds of lives _ , then that’s exactly how you shall be treated. A  _ dog _ .”

It dropped Legend, then, and Sky was finally able to see the teen’s face, though he now wished he couldn’t. It was pale, hollow, his eyes vacant and horrified as he coughed, blood splattering across the dark stones.

The Dark snapped its fingers again—Sky would  _ break _ those fingers—and a chain shot forward from somewhere behind it, firing forward between the swirls in the mirror frame and— _ goddesses _ —wrapping itself around Legend’s  _ neck. _

He gasped, his hands flying up to try and pull them away, but his wound slowed his movements and the Dark reached forward, wrapping its hand around the coils of chain, a searing scarlet gleam beginning to emanate from the tangle. 

It pulled back, watching Legend writhe on the floor, pulling fruitlessly at the chains that were now effectively welded around his neck, barely letting in any air at all.

Legend forced himself to still, his chest heaving, one arm still wrapping itself in his chains, the other desperately pressed against his wound, Sky’s dried blood mixing with the lifeblood that steadily drained from Legend’s abdomen.

“Like I said, this place is a place of judgement and retribution. A place where you get what you  _ deserve _ .”

It snapped its fingers— _ those cursed, cursed fingers _ —and a small pouch flew up from Legend’s waist, depositing itself comfortably in the Dark’s hand.

“Oh did you want this?”

Legend groaned, his face all defiance, but there was a dawning blankness in his eyes.

The Dark leaned forward, its face mere inches from Legend’s own.

“Then beg. Beg for it like the dog you are.”

Legend struggled, trying to drag himself to his knees, but he only fell father down, his face pressed against the cold, unforgiving stone.

The Dark scoffed. “Pathetic. You can’t even  _ reach _ your knees to grovel properly _. _ ”

It turned back to Sky, cocking its head.

“Here,  _ Chosen Hero, _ ” it threw the item bag at his feet, the pouch skidding to a stop against the obsidian. “Keep this safe for me.”

Sky growled low in the back of his throat, pulling against his chains again, but he froze when he made eye contact with Legend, whose eyelids slowly slid shut.

_ No. _

_ Not Legend. _

The wind whistled through the pillars, broken only by the quiet dripping of Legend’s blood off the raised platform.

“Alright, we’re done here.”

The Dark vanished, everyone’s weapons raising, and their eyes all shot to where they heard Twilight cry out.

The Dark was behind him, twisting Twilight’s arm behind his back and pressing its face right next to his ear.

“ _ You’re out of time.” _

And Twilight’s face was  _ pure _ panic, his mouth rushing open as if trying to say one final—

Twilight never got the chance. He  _ dropped _ , and  _ just _ before Twilight hit the ground, as one more  _ f*ck you _ to Sky, the Dark snapped its fingers, and the flicker in Twilight’s brow was the  _ very same one as— _

Twilight’s memory had been wiped, the Dark stepping away from his crumpled body.

_ We’re out of time. _

“ _ NO! _ ” came Hyrule’s cry, a burst of magic rushing from him as he launched himself forward, throwing his body over Twilight’s. A blinding light burst around him, and Sky was forced to avert his gaze. Stark white light penetrated every stone in the structure, deep glaring shadows striking back behind every corner. It had gotten dark to the point where Sky was legitimately struggling to make out what was going on. When he looked back, he managed to spot the terrified contours of Hyrule’s face, underlit, the light dimming ever so slightly. Hyrule pressed his hands to Twilight’s chest, muttering to himself.

“No, no, no, no,  _ no more _ , not on my watch, no,  _ no _ , I can’t, I  _ can’t _ lose anyone else,  _ NO. not like this. _ ” One hand scrabbled for Twilight’s, twisting his fingers into his. “Don’t do this, don’t  _ f*cking _ die,” His frantic speech continued with the light that steadily fizzled out, Sky barely able to make out the shape of Hyrule’s forehead pressing against Twilight’s own. The light flickered, Hyrule swayed, and he, too, fell, a quiet thud the only indication that he was lost to the inky black night.

Sky tensed, his wrists  _ screaming  _ as he lost all regard for himself, only able to watch in horror as two more of his  _ brothers _ fell. 

Wild, still unmoving on the floor, to his left, the slightest arcs of scarlet eating over his clothes, only visible in the nearly-black night. Next to him, Warriors was crumpled to the ground as well, an inky cushion slowly spreading out around him. And directly in front of Sky, always visible in his periphery no matter where he looked, Legend lay, his chest heaving far too much— _ still heaving, still alive _ —but chains straddled his neck, thick streaks of midnight running down the side of the platform, a twisted mural smack in the center of Sky’s vision. 

To his right, Twilight lay on the ground,  _ out of time, _ Hyrule sprawled over him.

_ I can’t go back to that. You’re my family and I don’t ever want to have to be without you. I don’t ever want to go back to that. _

He’d said that before he’d tried to  _ kill _ himself.

But no.

He wouldn’t have.

Not now, right?

It wasn’t his cycle anymore.

Twilight… 

Sky hadn’t even realized the Dark had vanished until it stood before him, and though Sky couldn’t make out its mouth, he could  _ feel _ its grin radiating off of it.

Sky felt sick.

A void opened up beneath Sky, beneath his right side—his right  _ hand _ —brimming with a shimmering purple energy that swirled into its depths,  _ hungry _ .

“And now, time for your trial. I’m going to ask once,  _ nicely. _ ”

Sky tensed.

Oh no.

Oh no no no  _ no no no NO NO NO NO NO NO _ — _ he knew where this was going _ —he’d rather die—he’d rather  _ kill _ —

“The sword, if you please.”

Had Sky’s mouth been any less dry, he would have spat at its feet.

“ _ Never. _ ”

The Dark  _ definitely _ raised its eyebrows, then, though Sky could barely make it out, leaning closer, drinking in the moment. “Fine, then. It’s your execution. Or rather,  _ Four’s. _ ”

The Dark was gone again, and this time its reappearance was marked by a flash of lighting that erupted around it, clearly illuminating the way its cruel fingers gripped Four’s neck— _the way Sky’s had just the night before_ —but this was _different_ , Four going rigid as sparks arced down his form. It easily lifted Four into the air, the teen still jerking and twitching from the force that had just _surged_ through his system. The Dark strode forward, its feet gliding across the ground so each step became three.

It neared, coming to a stop before Sky. It tilted its head to the side, almost  _ kindly _ , as if Four wasn’t being strangled in its grip. Every time the teen struggled, another jolt ran through his body and he convulsed.

Sky’s grip on the Master Sword tightened, the portal still howling beneath it.

The Dark’s face turned disapproving, and it moved to the side, extending its arm and holding Four directly in front of the blade, in line with its tip.

No.

The Master Sword— _ Fi _ —would never burn him. Not here. Not when he didn’t have a choice. That wasn’t going to  _ protect _ anyone!

The Master Sword grew warm in Sky’s hand.

Sky grit his teeth, only squeezing tighter.

_ No.  _

The Dark moved its arm and Four scrabbled at it, his feet not even touching the ground, his hands  _ clawing  _ at the Dark’s arm. Another surge of electricity coursed through him and he froze, twitching, paralyzed in its grasp. 

The Dark moved Four closer to the Master Sword, the tip now barely an inch from the teen’s heart, and  _ Sky couldn’t move it away. _

Sky’s breathing quickened, but he held firm, determined. The handle grew in temperature, moving from burning to  _ searing _ , and Sky tensed further, squeezing his eyes shut, his teeth feeling like they were about to shatter from how tight he was clenching his jaw.

He risked a glance, turning his face to the side, the Master Sword  _ screaming _ in his hand, and his breathing redoubled as he took in the sight.

The Dark, dangling Four above the portal with a curious tilt to its head, Four himself entirely unable to move, his arms rigid where they hung uselessly at his neck, his chest spasming from the electricity. He eyed the tip of the Master Sword, now a hair’s breadth from his heart, the ravenous void raging silently beneath them both, the eerie purple glow flickering along the bottom of the blade, illuminating both of their faces from beneath, giving Sky a front-row seat to Four’s abject terror.

And then their eyes met, Four’s shooting wide in a silent plea— _ a plea to do WHAT?! Spare Four? Or drop the only weapon that the Dark seemed to have an aversion to? _

If it was willing to go to such great pains to rid Sky of the Master Sword, then that meant it  _ had _ to be a threat. Why else would it order Vio to take it? Why else go through all this trouble?

Sky couldn’t tear his gaze away from Four’s, seething through his teeth at— _ Hylia, his hand was screaming, his flesh was beginning to melt, dear golden goddesses it was sizzling _ —

Sky screamed.

But he didn’t let go.

He felt a slight pressure in his grip on the handle.

His sword had made contact.

He screamed and he writhed and he cried, the Master Sword fixed in place, its deadly point pressing into Four’s tunic.

Sky looked away.

“This is your last chance to behave,” came a stern, scolding voice— _ don’t think about how much it sounded like Time. _

Sky squeezed his eyes shut further, seething against the agony of his flesh becoming  _ charred _ .

“Fine, then.”

The sword slackened slightly, and the hilt cooled, Sky’s hand now throbbing with daggers of agony.

He raised his gaze and opened his eyes.

The Dark stood, Four still shuddering in its grip, though its arm was slack, Four at an angle, his legs dragging on the floor. 

And then in one flash of movement, the Dark thrusted Four forward, his heart hurtling straight for the razor-sharp point of the Sword that Seals the Darkness.

Sky’s eyes met Four’s.

Before Sky could even process what he saw, the Master Sword fell from his grip.

She slipped from his fingers, twisting in the air, the deep purple aura of the portal flickering across her shimmering hilt and mirror-like blade. The handle, white-hot, vanished first, sinking swiftly into the raging blackness, the darkness eating its way up the blade as it fell, the tip finally disappearing into nowhere.

The portal snapped shut, the Dark tossing Four carelessly to the side, the teen skidding across the ground, coughing and quaking, though the coughing died out before long.

And there was silence.

Silence save the distant howling of the wind, the sky’s agonized cries into an indifferent expanse of desert.

And the quiet dripping of Legend’s blood onto the floor.

It was gone.

Sky stared at the innocuous stone tiles, the solid floor now pure blackness, no traces of magic remaining.

Sky stared at his right hand. His right hand that was seared anew with every movement of air in the frigid desert. His right hand that was so charred that the leather of his gloves had melted into his skin.

His empty, empty right hand.

And he shrieked a broken, twisted agonized lament that amplified tenfold off the wide curves of stone, reverberating into the desert over a sea of indifferent sand.

All the strength left Sky’s body and he slackened, suspended entirely by the cutting pain in his wrists, but it was nothing now. Nothing compared to his hand.

Nothing compared to the loss of the sword.

“Took you long enough.”

Sky closed his eyes.

It was over.

It was all over.

Absently, he opened his eyes, his hollow gaze scanning the battlefield.

Time was quivering in rage, staring at the space where the Master Sword had been, his right eye open and a sheer disk of white, but any possible significance of that would remain a mystery, Sky sweeping his gaze to Wind, who fell to his knees with a thud. Four lay only a few feet to Sky’s right, his eyes hazy but there was defeat in his slack muscles that still twitched.

And right in front of Sky, dead center, lay Legend, his eyes bright with fury. 

He didn’t move.

No one did.

“O strongest heroes throughout the ages,” it praised, voice acidic.

It paused, reveling in the moment.

“ _ You lost. _ Forfeit your lives to me and you’ll be the only ones who have to suffer at my hands.” It blinked back into the mirror frame where it lounged, idly kicking Legend’s chain with its foot.

Wind dragged himself to his feet, still entirely unscathed. He straightened, a defiant light in his eyes.

“Never, you piece of sh*t.”

It hummed, rolling its head to the side. “You may be a band of thieves, murderers, failures, and hypocrites, but if nothing else, I admire your courage.”

It snapped its fingers and there was a deep,  _ deep _ groaning, one that shook the very foundations of the dungeon, sand spilling off every ledge from the shuddering of the stone.

In front of Sky, somewhere above him and a little to the left, the stars began to move.

No, that wasn’t quite right.

Wind rushed forward, skidding to a stop next to the epicenter of the shudders, beneath the sliding stars, and shooting a fire arrow into the sky, a deep, scarlet glow blossoming around it as it rose, illuminating the wide, arch-laden walls of the arena and the nearby pillar, the pillar that stretched high, high into the sky, blotting out the stars, the pillar topped with that gleaming emblem that still sparkled, even in the light of a single fire arrow.

The pillar that, as Wind’s arrow rose, began to fall, the red light blossoming around it, engulfing it as it gained speed, the stone cylinder now awash with  _ red _ , and hurtling down towards them, its base smashing into the high wall in front of it. 

But then, the center of the tower  _ snapped _ . With a deafening, shuddering, crashing impact, the pillar gained speed, falling faster,  _ faster _ , the top of the spire colliding with the opposite side of the bowl-like structure, the thunderous quaking of the entire dungeon tripling at the impact. Somewhere behind Sky, tons upon tons of stone architecture crashing down upon itself.

The other end of the tower, then, the end that had snapped off the base, began to sink down, its jagged stone edges swinging downwards, the other end propped up on the opposite wall. The stone monolith hurtled down, the base promising to strike the ground where Wind and Time stood, the last two on their feet. Wind started to run but froze, no doubt realizing that the rubble was sure to bury Wild and Warriors. 

It wouldn’t matter if they were dead, but if they were still alive?

Indecision rocketed through Wind’s form.

The curved contours of the pillar, brilliant red flames that were only just clearing from where they licked around it, grew closer and closer, building in speed.

And Time skidded in, golden gauntlets barely glimmering with the last of the light from the tongues of flame—

And caught the pillar.

His hands were outstretched above him, bent just slightly at the elbows, and he widened his stance as the upper end of the pillar rolled to the side, threatening to slide out of the reach of Time’s other hand and crush him.

But he pivoted, supporting the shifting weight of the pillar. His face was shrouded in darkness; only his silhouette, stalwart yet wavering under the strength of the pillar, was visible to Sky.

Wind gasped but wasted no time, snapping himself from his haze. He rushed to Wild’s side and, pausing for a moment with a brief inhale that sounded like a sob, bit out an  _ I’m so sorry for thi _ s and scooped Wild up in his arms—no doubt thanking the gods for his strength bracelets—and hurrying him out from under the pillar’s shadow.

Time grunted, his arms lowering little by little as he strained against the colossal weight.

Wind deposited Wild next to Hyrule and Twilight on the opposite side of the arena and sprinted back, freezing in front of Warriors.

Time’s back bent more and more.

“ _ Holy sh*t it’s still in there. _ ”

One of Time’s knees struck stone.

Wind cradled Warriors in his arms, hooking one under his shoulders and the other his knees, careful not to disturb the blade that still hung from Warriors’ form, no longer dripping with blood.

Wind staggered back, hurrying along as best he could without injuring Warriors further.

Time’s arms lowered ever further, the bottom of the pillar now hanging only inches over his head.

Wind rushed back, scanning the area.

“Everyone’s out, Time.”

Time didn’t respond, his hands braced against the sheer width of the tower, only cradling the very bottom and edge of its wide circumference.

“Time,” Wind repeated, his voice frantic, “you can put it down now.”

“No, he can’t.”

The Dark spoke up from where it had quietly watched the whole ordeal, that calculated glee still shaping those  _ red, red eyes. _

“At least, not without crushing himself. A similar feeling, I imagine, to the colossal weight of the knowledge that he’s responsible for the destruction of both your world and”—he gestured to Legend—“his. Unless you never told him that the Hero of Time was the one who vanished, damning your Hyrule and everyone in it to a watery grave. Understandable, of course. That’s not a particularly important detail.”

Wind turned back to Time who bent forward, resting the bottom edge of the pillar against his back, heaving, panting, no doubt struggling to process what the Dark had said.

He looked up to the Dark once more, his breaths fast. His eyes were pleading, desperate, as tortured as his voice as he spoke.

“What is it that you  _ want? _ ”

A wide, unsettling smile slithered across its face.

“Your  _ courage. _ ”

Time cried out, staggering under the weight of the tower. He shifted his weight, trying to move it off of him, but it was clear he was struggling to stop it from descending any further.

His arms were quivering, shuddering, and it was clear he knew he didn’t have much left in him. He shifted his balance to the right, trying to reposition it so he could start trying to put it down, but his left hand slipped on the smooth stone and, as if some spell had been broken, the tower crashed to the ground, a scream lost somewhere in the shuddering of the dungeon and the clouds of sand that billowed outwards at the impact.

“ _ Time! _ ” Wind cried, but he could do nothing more than cough and sputter in the sand.

“Well,” the Dark clapped its hands together, brushing off nonexistent dirt, “Looks like that’s all the heroes taken care of. Unless, that is,” it blinked down to the ground, only a few yards in front of Wind, bending forward patronizingly, “ _ you _ have something to say about it?”

Wind drew his massive hammer in a rush, tearing forward and smashing it down with all the fury he could muster. The Dark stepped backwards, not even bothering to teleport. Wind swung again, but his hammer met only air, and he changed tactics, switching it out in favor of his whip. He cracked it once, whirling it forward to try and prevent the Dark from slipping away again, but it merely ducked under his attacks, looking entirely unconcerned. 

Wind dove to the side, entering a roll and springing to his feet, drawing his sword in a flurry and swinging downward, but the Dark spun away again, dancing just out of his range. 

Throwing his sword to the ground with a crash, Wind drew his bow, the arrow quivering on the bowstring as golden light began to collect around it, building and building, Wind’s shadow strengthening and lengthening, wavering as Wind’s hands shuddered. He tried to take a breath, a deep in and out, but it shook and skipped and only made his hands shake harder. 

He sucked in a breath, holding it for a moment, and then a rough exhale escaped his lips and he let his arrow fly, a bolt of pure radiance firing forward, sailing just past the head of the unmoving Dark, whose head leisurely tracked its movement. The light continued forward, casting harsh shadows over where Twilight, Hyrule, Wind, and Warriors lay limp on the ground before splashing onto the wall behind them, its brilliance rushing out in waves before fading uselessly into the night.

“As I said. That’s all the heroes taken care of.”

It vanished once again, its voice a twisted caricature of kindness that seemed to come from every direction. “Sleep well, children. The worst is yet to come.”

The faintest pressure that had been nagging at the edges of Sky’s senses lifted.

It was gone.

It was over.

Wind waited, heaving, his bow clattering to the ground at his side.

A second, five seconds,  _ some _ amount of time passed, Wind only breathing, waiting.

Eventually, he spoke, his voice the broken, quivering voice of a scared child.

“Guys?”

He was met with silence. Even the wind had died down in the distance. In the dark and the silence and the cold, Wind, a fourteen-year-old child, coughed up a sob.

“Is… is anyone s-still…”

He trailed off, unable to finish.

There was a cough, wet, weak, but present.

Wind gasped, and there was the sound of him scrabbling for something. He must have found it because it quieted, a faint amber hue blossoming around him, dripping from the tip of an arrow he clutched in his hand like a lifeline.

The light sparkled in the tears that ran down his face.

He rushed to the dias where Legend lay, one hand fluttering over his bloodied body.

“Hold on, Legend, I’m gonna get you out of there.”

“Item…b-bag.”

It was barely a whisper, but Wind immediately sprung to action, an  _ on it _ already on his lips.

He skidded to the base of the obsidian pillar where Sky was chained, pausing for a moment, looking up at Sky’s slumped figure in worry and the slightest hint of awe.

“Sky, are you…?”

Sky slackened further in his chains, averting his gaze.

Wind stepped forward a little bit, touching Sky’s shoulder gently.

“I-it’s gonna be okay.”

He didn’t sound particularly confident.

Wind exhaled a little, scurrying back next to Legend, brushing the sand from his item bag.

“Rings.”

Wind nodded, pinching the glowing arrow under his chin for light as he started digging through Legend’s item bag. After a moment, he found a decently sized box that he opened, carefully holding in front of Legend, within reach of one of his bloodied hands.

Legend’s tired eyes carefully focused themselves, sharpening into some form of awareness, and his left hand slid forward, carefully sifting through the assortment of silver and gold bands.

He eventually found what he was looking for, sliding it onto his finger. In a brief, dim flash, Legend was replaced by a petite cloaked figure, the chains loosening around his new, smaller shape. Wind reached up, quickly untangling the rest of them, leaving Legend to return to his original form, stumbling off the platform to where he was caught and supported by Wind.

Immediately, Legend started coughing, thick, wet, his breaths heaving and wheezing and his lungs greedily drinking in their full fill of air. He shamelessly leaned all his weight onto Wind, who bore it eagerly, running a careful hand up and down his back.

“Legend, you were  _ stabbed _ , are you—”

Legend slowly raised a hand, cutting him off.

“Healing ring,” he explained in between breaths. A moment longer passed before he continued. “My life isn’t in danger.”

Wind slackened visibly. “Thank the gods.” 

“The others…” he started, but Wind sighed weakly, cutting him off.

“I don’t know if anyone else is…”

Legend shook his head.

“Hyrule should only… be unconscious.”

Wind nodded slowly. “And if he passed out healing Twi, then maybe he’s okay, too!”

Legend made a small noise of affirmation, leaning away from Wind a little as he steadied himself.

He held out a hand, and Wind returned the item bag to Legend, who produced a small lamp, though when he lit it, it let out a brilliant warm glow.

Wind sighed in gratitude, accepting it from Legend, who stepped slowly away, freeing up Wind to check on the others. Upon seeing Legend standing, Wind did just that, running towards Hyrule but skidding to a stop when he heard Four groan.

He gasped, dropping to his knees and laying Legend’s lamp by his side, rolling Four onto his back.

At the movement, Four moaned more, his eyes fluttering open.

Wind’s eyebrows flew up, his face brightening ever so slightly. “You’re actually awake!”

Four’s head bobbed in a barely noticeable nod, his fingers twitching.

Wind scooped one arm under Four’s shoulders, helping him up into a sitting position. Four grimaced at the movement, letting out a long breath once he was upright.

Slowly, agonizingly, he began to move his left arm, then his right, bringing them into his lap. He leaned forward, sighing between his teeth, and Wind carefully pulled his hands away.

Four slowly began to survey the battlefield, his hoarse voice quiet. “Who else is…”

“I don’t know yet,” Wind started, grabbing the light and rushing to his feet. “I’ll check on Twilight and Hyrule now.” Four nodded, looking back to where Legend had produced another, smaller lamp from his bag.

Wind swiftly sunk to his knees by Hyrule’s side, pulling him off of Twilight. He leaned down, carefully placing his ear over Hyrule’s mouth.

“He’s still breathing!”

“He’s… gonna be out… for awhile,” Legend managed to get out, but his relief was clear.

Wind nodded, quickly stepping over to Twilight, leaning down and doing the same.

“He’s breathing, too!”

Legend nodded, turning his head back to look at Sky.

Their eyes met, Legend’s face a swirl of sympathy. He took a weak, slow step forward, limping towards Sky.

“Holy sh*t!”

Legend paused, shifting his gaze to Wind.

“Wars is breathing, too! He must have just passed out from blood loss, but he’s not actually…” Wind paused. “He’s alive.”

Four slouched at that, some of the tension beginning to drain from him as he leaned forward and carefully put one hand to the ground, shifting his weight onto it.

Legend sighed in relief, turning back towards Sky and taking another few steps. He stumbled forward, closing the rest of the gap and supporting himself against the midnight obsidian stone, the warmth of the lamp barely registering on Sky’s face.

“Sorry I’m late,” he started, his weak smile faltering before it could truly form. He sighed, raising a hand up towards Sky’s but winced when it pulled at his wound. He lowered it to his side instead, looking at Sky sideways as if waiting for him to speak.

At Sky’s silence, Legend opened his mouth again, but he was interrupted by another shout from Wind.

“How the f*ck is  _ Wild _ still alive?”

Legend gasped at that, turning back to face Wind.

His voice was quiet, but the world was silent enough that it could still be heard. “Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure! He’s breathing, his heart’s beating, and his burns… I thought they’d be a  _ lot _ worse.”

“It wasn’t trying to,” Four rasped.

All eyes turned to him.

“It wasn’t trying to kill us.”

Legend’s brow furrowed. “But  _ why? _ ”

Four looked away, voice as rough and quiet as Legend’s. “That’s a later problem.”

“If it wasn’t… what about Time?!” 

“On it!” called Wind, rushing back across the amphitheatre, the echo of his footsteps now accompanied by grunts of pain as Four pulled himself into a kneeling position.

Wind skidded to a stop, his chest heaving at the pile of rubble and sand in front of him. 

“Oh gods.”

He slowly pulled out his deku leaf, swinging it downwards to blow away as much of the dust as he could. A cloud of sand billowed out, swirling around the shadows of the tower.

Wind waited for it to clear, carefully scanning for any sign of the Old Man.

It settled, and he managed to make out the shimmering of one of Time’s golden gauntlets in the warm light of the lamp.

Wind crouched quickly, laying the lamp to the side and carefully pulling off the gauntlet, feeling for Time’s pulse.

After a moment, he gasped, holding Time’s hand in both of his and slowly lowering his forehead, pressing it into Time’s palm.

“You’re alive.”

And Time’s hand twitched, almost as if to ruffle Wind’s hair.

Four slowly rose to his feet, wavering slightly and catching himself on the side of the obsidian pillar.

“Everyone’s alive, then.”

“Barely,” Legend muttered, scanning Sky’s slack, emotionless face.

Four took a breath, letting it out slowly as he thought.

“What are we gonna do next?”

Legend looked at him for a moment.

“I don’t know.”

Wind began to dig, shifting through the rubble and blowing away any sand with his deku leaf.

“But,” he continued, sucking in a breath and releasing it thoughtfully, “we’re alive. That has to count for something.”

Four looked away. “We’re alive because it chose not to kill us, and for no other reason.”

Legend frowned. “But we’re  _ alive. _ ”

Four blew out a breath. “We are.” He surveyed the unconscious heroes on the ground. “Let’s try to keep it that way. Do we have any potions?”

Legend nodded.

Sky’s lips moved without his consent.

“I have them,” he rasped.

Four started a little at Sky’s sudden speech, scanning him in shock.

Legend nodded, handing Four the lamp and reaching for the pouch at Sky’s waist. He pulled the potions out, staring at their glittering glass bottles.

“Is this all?”

Sky nodded.

Four moved the light closer. “What do we have?”

“Five healing potions. And one magic one.”

Four frowned.

“I could have sworn we had more than that.”

Legend shook his head.

“Sky and Hyrule had to use a couple on me and Wars the other day. This looks about right.”

Four scanned the arena. “We can work with that.”

Legend turned to Sky. “Now to get you down from there.”

Sky barely processed the words.

Get him down?

_ Why? _

“Four, do you think you could break those shackles?”

Four eyed them critically.

“If I had a better angle on them, yes. I could remove the manacles themselves, but it would be much faster to just break the chains for now.”

Legend nodded, surveying the area.

“Alright, stand back.”

Four did so, and Legend grabbed a cane from his pouch, summoning another one of his cubes.

“Alright, Four, get on that patch of sand.”

Four complied, and Legend grabbed his sand rod, raising a pillar that lifted Four into the air.

Four moved onto the cube, giving Legend a thumbs-up. The sand pillar shuddered back into dust and Four pulled a hammer from the pouch on his waist.

“Brace yourself, Sky,” he said, Legend positioning himself so he could catch Sky once the chains broke.

Four swung the hammer, but it was weak and smacked uselessly against the chains. Four took a steadying breath and tried again. This time the impact was harder, and he hummed approvingly. The shackles shuddered, though, and Sky winced against the pain that bit as his palm, flaring down his arm. Two more swings and there was a solid crash of the metal splintering and the chains rattling, Sky’s right arm falling freely. Legend rushed forward, catching Sky’s shoulder and supporting his weight until Four managed to break the other chain, Legend carefully lowering Sky to the ground.

Legend leaned over, placing his hand into Sky’s left. He squeezed, scanning Sky’s face worriedly.

Sky tried, in one look, to convey to Legend how utterly fruitless his efforts were.

Legend’s face fell, but his hand remained in Sky’s.

“Let’s get these potions to Wild and Warriors,” Four began, carefully sliding off the block. “Physical injuries come first. Everything else is going to be messy as hell.”

Legend’s free hand drifted towards the wound in his gut.

“Yeah.”

He returned his gaze to Sky, something strong in his eyes.

“This isn’t over.”

Legend’s hand slowly pulled from Sky’s and he and Four moved away. Distantly, Sky could hear rubble shifting as Wind continued to excavate Time. 

Blankly, Sky stared at the stars.

There were thousands of them, all spattered across the vast expanse. Deep, somewhere behind them, there was a sort of cloud of light, threads of a million different colors all fading into a sort of brilliant iridescence.

There was a gasp, and Wind called for a potion. Four’s light footsteps hurried over and after a moment, the scraping of stone on rocks grew loud.

“His arm!” Wind’s voice was dripping with distress.

Four’s steady voice was barely audible, but present. “Can you unpin it?”

A pause.

“If I try to lift it myself, I could just end up rolling it, which will only make it worse. I’d need someone to help me lift it.”

A moment of silence.

“Your sand wand.”

“What?”

“You lift one end with your hands, and I’ll use your sand wand on the other side at the same time.”

“... That might actually work.”

“We don’t really have a better option.”

There was a grating sound, and Wind cried out.

“I’ve got him out! You can put it down.”

There was a thunderous shuddering, followed by hasty stumbling footsteps.

“How is he?”

A sigh.

“I’m no expert, but I don’t know if he’ll be moving this arm for a while.”

“But he’s alive.”

“He’s alive.”

Somewhere to Sky’s right, Legend gasped.

“Twi?”

There was a groan. 

“He’s awake!”

In the corner of his eye, Sky could see Legend helping Twilight into a seated position.

Twilight scanned the battlefield, alertness slowly filtering back into his eyes.

“Wh…”

“A couple of things,” Legend started, voice still rough and quiet. “First, nobody’s dead.”

Twilight choked on a sob, one hand flying to his mouth. “Wild?”

“Yeah. Him, Wars, everyone. They’re all oka—alive. They’re all alive.”

Twilight reached out, his fingers brushing Wild’s. 

“Second,” Legend continued, “that bastard left.”

Twilight’s face flickered with confusion.

“ _ Left? _ ”

Legend nodded. “Yeah, we… we  _ lost _ , Twi.”

Twilight closed his hand around Wild’s, squeezing slightly.

“I… I see.” A veil lowered over his face, and he busied himself with fretting over Wild.

After a few moments, he gasped.

“I told you he was alive.”

“But he’s already  _ awake.  _ Legend, what the—”

“It’s complicated.” He slowly turned to look in the direction of Four and Sky. “And it seems like some of us know more than others.”

Twilight frowned, letting himself be distracted by Wild’s stirring.

“Cub?”

Wild coughed.

Twilight reached out, clearly wanting nothing more than to wrap Wild into a crushing hug, but froze when he remembered his injuries. Instead, he contented himself with lightly grabbing Wild’s hand, gently pressing it against his own face.

“What… happened?”

Legend ran a hand down his face.

“We’re going to have to explain this to everyone, aren’t we.”

Twilight looked over at the still unconscious Warriors and Hyrule. He sighed.

“We lost, cub.”

Wild’s eyes crystalized into clarity, sparkling with something sharp.

“That’s not funny.”

“It isn’t.”

Wild let out a shuddering breath. When he spoke next, his voice was impossibly small.

“What, exactly, does losing… entail?”

Twilight looked to Legend.

“Don’t worry, everyone’s alive.”

Wild slackened at that, coughing out a sigh that wracked his whole body.

Legend opened his mouth, but silently closed it again.

There was a humming, almost a moaning, and then a portal sprung into shape, a wavering purple frame of magic melting into an inky black void.

Every hero tensed, Wind reaching for his sword and finding nothing there, producing his hammer instead. Four weakly pulled the Four Sword from its sheath, the blade quivering in front of him. Legend reached up to draw his blade but winced, unable to lift his arm further for fear of reopening his wound. He grabbed a fire rod instead. Wild tried to move but Twilight held him down, one hand clutching an innocuous mask with a shock of white hair.

Sky didn’t even flinch.

Whatever happened, happened.

But nothing happened, the portal hanging innocently in the mirror frame, still swirling with magic.

Twilight slackened slightly.

“I think it’s for us.”

Legend didn’t speak, only clutching his fire rod tighter. Four stepped backwards a little, pulling his sword closer to himself protectively. Wind’s breathing accelerated.

“I mean,” Twilight clarified, “I think we’re supposed to walk  _ through  _ it. You know, like normal?”

Legend, Four, and Wind exchanged glances, the latter speaking up.

“What if it takes us somewhere dangerous?”

Twilight grimaced a little, looking away.

“We don’t have a choice.”

They stared at him.

“We don’t have enough water to make it out of the desert.”

Wind’s breaths raced, Four rushing to try and calm him down. Legend’s voice was hoarse as he spoke.

“ _ What? _ ”

“Not in this state!”

More glances.

Legend grimaced. “We really  _ don’t _ have a choice.”

Four sighed. “Who can stand?”

Twilight carefully rose to his feet, extending a hand down to Wild who hissed at the movement, gritting his teeth against the pain. Eventually, the pair managed to stand, Twilight unable to support Wild too much for fear of irritating his burns. 

“I’ll take Hyrule, you take Wars?”

Twilight nodded at Legend’s suggestion, carefully hooking his arms under Warriors’ shoulders and knees, rising to his feet.

Legend pulled on a pair of bracelets, tenderly cradling Hyrule into his arms.

Wind slipped himself under Time’s good arm, Four supporting as best he could from the side, and they slowly moved towards the portal. 

Legend arrived at Sky’s side.

“Can you stand?”

Sky nodded.

“Are you coming with us?”

Sky stilled.

“Please, Sky, we need your help. Now more than ever.”

So this was it, then.

His punishment.

How fitting, given the location.

He’d accept it.

He nodded.

“Okay.”

Legend stood by his side, waiting.

“A… little time?”

Legend nodded.

“Of course. See you on the other side.”

And Legend walked away.

Sky waited, the last set of footsteps finally quieting.

It was just him.

Even the wind was silent.

A pressure built up behind his eyes, pinching near the bridge of his nose.

His breaths began to quicken, but only the slightest bit.

His face heated up and he switched to breathing through his mouth.

And his vision went blurry, tears building up in his eyes, layering and layering until finally, the surface tension broke and they slid off to either side, sliding down his temples.

And Sky cried.

* * *

The portal gaped, deep, endless, pulsing with magic. 

Sky stood before it, and sucked in a breath.

He blew it out.

The desert stretched behind him, unforgiving and cruel, rent by chasms that ran straight to its core. It lay, silent and indifferent in the night. 

And Sky stepped through the portal alone, a gaping wound where the Master Sword should have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I woke up today and chose violence.


End file.
